The corridor lights dimmed abruptly as Aina broke into a run.
Her heels barely touched the floor; each step triggered faint rings of light beneath her feet as the corridor's inertia-dampening field strained to keep up. The air itself vibrated—low, irregular tremors rolling through the medical sector like distant thunder trapped inside metal walls.
Rhyes followed close behind, his long coat snapping sharply with each stride.
"Aina," he said, voice steady despite the shaking. "Report."
"I'm not sure yet," she replied without slowing. "But the capsule alarms don't activate unless—"
A deep clang echoed ahead of them.
Metal screamed.
They turned the corner.
The chamber housing Zazm's vertical immersion capsule was in chaos.
The Pellucidum Suppression Array—a ring of floating crystalline pylons suspended around the capsule—was violently oscillating, their internal light flickering between warning crimson and unstable white. The floor plates beneath them were vibrating hard enough to send ripples through pooled condensation.
The capsule itself shook.
Not gently.
Violently.
Hairline fractures spider-webbed across the reinforced transparent alloy glass, glowing faintly as containment fields struggled to compensate.
Aina didn't hesitate.
She sprinted forward, boots skidding across the floor as two tri-layer holographic diagnostic panels erupted into existence in front of her eyes. Her fingers blurred as she struck through them, commands chaining faster than human reaction speed.
Her eyes widened.
"…No," she whispered.
The readouts spiked again.
Before Rhyes could say anything, Aina canceled the holograms mid-air. They shattered into shards of light.
She took one sharp step back.
Then she jumped.
Her coat flared outward as she twisted mid-air, her body rotating with surgical precision. Her leg snapped out in a spinning hook kick, heel wrapped in a momentary compression field.
The impact was catastrophic.
The air exploded backward in a concussive wave as her heel struck the capsule glass.
The reinforced alloy didn't crack.
It got destroyed.
The entire front of the capsule disintegrated in a thunderous burst, glass fragments screaming outward before slamming into invisible repulsion fields and being hurled away from the chamber.
The liquid inside—pale pink, drug-saturated suspension medium—burst free in a tidal surge, slamming into the floor and walls.
Zazm dropped barely landing on the ground his body not having enough strength.
His body hit the ground hard, knees buckling immediately. His muscles trembled—not from weakness, but from the violent imbalance between suppressed and returning Vana flow.
He tilted forward.
Before gravity could finish the job, Rhyes was there.
One arm hooked beneath Zazm's shoulder, the other gripping his waist, lifting him effortlessly despite the weight of soaked fabric and deadened resistance.
Aina stared at the ruined capsule, breath caught.
How much Vana…
How much vana does someone need to destroy all this and the entire system from the inside?
She turned sharply.
"Sir Rhyes," she said, voice tight. "Main surgical chamber. Now."
Rhyes nodded once.
He adjusted his grip and leapt.
The floor cratered slightly beneath his feet as he crossed half the corridor in a single bound, the door ahead irising open before he even reached it. Aina followed, coat snapping behind her as the alarms muted themselves in her wake.
As they ran, Rhyes spoke.
"What happened?"
"A miscalculation," Aina replied, jaw clenched. "I assumed a contraption that big would be enough. I didn't factor in an Omega-Star-class internal Vana density."
They burst into the main surgical room.
A circular room unfolded around them, walls layered with shifting fractal patterns—adaptive sterilization fields recalibrating in real time. In the center hovered a Surgical Bed, its surface flowing like liquid metal.
Rhyes placed Zazm down.
The bed adjusted instantly, elevating his head and spine, locking his limbs in soft, adaptive restraints that didn't bind—but supported.
Aina didn't waste a second.
She moved to a wall alcove and stepped into a booth. A transparent membrane sprayed over her body in a fine mist, nanofabric knitting itself into skin-tight gloves, a sterile facial mask sealing over her mouth and nose. Her hair was drawn upward automatically, twisted into a tight bun and encased in a transparent polymer sheath.
She flexed her fingers once, checking seal integrity.
"Sir Rhyes," she said, already walking back.
"Leave the room."
Rhyes hesitated—just a fraction.
Then nodded and stepped back through the threshold. The doors sealed behind him with a muted thrum.
The lights died.
Not darkness—focus.
Dozens of Autonomous Med-Drones descended from the ceiling, each no larger than a human hand. Precision lights bloomed in the air, illuminating Zazm's face, chest, and skull from multiple angles. Instruments unfolded silently.
Aina raised two fingers.
A small blade slid into her hand, its edge vibrating at a frequency that cut matter without resistance.
She leaned forward.
Without hesitation, she made a clean incision across Zazm's forehead.
Blood flowed immediately, dark and thick, tracing down the side of his face. Before it could drip, a drone absorbed it mid-air.
Her eyes glowed faintly—soft silver light, layers of tissue, neural pathways, and the crystalline pellucidum structure unfolding before her inner sight.
She lifted her hand again.
The blade vanished as a Needle long, impossibly thin, edges rounded rather than sharp—settled between her fingers.
She guided it into the incision.
Slowly.
The needle passed through soft tissue, resistance changing subtly. Her other hand rose, palm glowing with steady blue Vana.
The needle struck something firmer.
The pellucidum.
She applied controlled pressure.
It slid into place.
A thin mechanical arm—slightly thicker than the needle—descended and locked onto its upper port. Instantly, streams of nanobots poured through the channel—hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands, flowing like liquid light into Zazm's skull.
Aina held her breath.
Seconds passed.
Then the arm disengaged.
She withdrew the needle smoothly and pressed her glowing hand over the incision. The blue light intensified for a heartbeat.
The wound sealed.
Not a scar remained.
The drones retreated. The lights dimmed. The room returned to normal illumination.
Aina stepped back and exhaled slowly.
"…That was close."
She removed her mask and exited the chamber.
Rhyes was waiting.
"All clear?" he asked calmly.
Aina nodded, rubbing her temple. "Barely."
She continued, "It'll take time for him to regain consciousness. But that's good—the nanobots will have enough time to merge with his pellucidum and circulate fully."
She glanced down the corridor. "Looks like the others are waking up too."
They walked.
The room was warm, softly lit, decorated with floating holographic plants and low-gravity ambient fields. Several beds were arranged neatly.
Nova was sitting upright on one of them.
He was holding his head with both hands.
"How are you feeling?" Aina asked.
Nova squinted in her direction. "…Miss Aina?"
She smiled. "Yes. It's me."
"…Why does your voice sound so high-pitched," Nova muttered, blinking aggressively, "and why is everything… vibrating?"
"You'll be fine," Aina said gently. "Your body needs time to stabilize. Rest."
Nova flopped backward dramatically. "Very well."
He paused.
"…Has anyone else woken up?"
"Not yet," Aina replied. "And that's good. The longer they stay unconscious, the better."
Nova sighed. "Great. So I'm the unlucky one."
He winced. "I've got a headache, and your voice sounds like a beaver chewing metal next to my ear."
Aina burst out laughing, bending slightly and holding her stomach.
"That might be the best post-AMI reaction I've ever heard."
"Glad to entertain," Nova said flatly, eyes rolling as he dragged a hand through his hair. "Truly suffering for the arts."
"Do others experience this?" he asked.
"It varies," Aina explained. "Some have heightened senses. Others lose gravity perception. Some can't tell time."
"Oh," Nova muttered. "So it's that kind of nightmare."
Rhyes stepped forward.
"Good to see you're functional."
Nova squinted toward the sound. "Who said that."
"Supreme Commander Rhyes Vance."
Nova's face twisted. "Why do you sound like that."
"…Like what?"
"Like you're singing everything," Nova snapped. "In this weird, low-pitched autotune."
Aina laughed so hard she nearly sat down.
"I don't know what autotune is," Rhyes said calmly.
"It's when—ugh," Nova waved weakly. "Never mind. You sound awful."
Rhyes sighed. "Then I'll take my leave. I have work to do. And no intention of becoming a singer."
"You shouldn't," Nova muttered. "Your voice doesn't suit it."
Rhyes left.
Aina sat on the nearby sofa.
"Miss Aina," Nova said. "Do we need to train to use our AMI weapons?"
"Not at all."
"…Then how do we learn?"
"You'll just know."
"Just know?"
"Yes."
Nova stared at her. "…That's horrifying."
"It's like breathing," Aina said. "You don't learn it. You just do it."
"…Then when do I get the mark?"
"You already have."
"Huh—?"
Nova sat up too fast.
The world spun violently.
He collapsed back onto the bed.
"Don't rush it," Aina said.
"I feel like I'm being dragged to the afterlife," Nova groaned. "Please keep talking."
Aina smiled. "Have you tried using your other AMI mark? The one on your forearm?"
Nova squinted at it. "Oh. This? No idea."
"Both yours and Zazm's existing marks are exceptionally strong," Aina said. "The strongest I've ever seen."
"Useless if we can't use them."
"Don't be discouraged."
Nova lay half-slumped against the bed, one arm dangling uselessly off the side while the other pressed against his temple like he was trying to physically hold his skull together.
After a moment of silence, he spoke again.
"Miss Aina," he said, voice strained but still sharp. "How do you operate, exactly? And… what's your actual job?"
Aina tilted her head slightly.
A loose strand of silver hair slipped free from behind her ear, catching the ambient light as it fell against her cheek.
"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely curious.
Nova squinted at her, eyes unfocused as if the room was still refusing to agree on a single orientation.
"I mean," he continued, gesturing weakly with his hand, "this place is ridiculously advanced. Type-four civilization, reality-bending tech, instant teleportation, matter creation—"
He let his arm drop again with a soft thud.
"So why do we still need specific healing AMI marks? Why do we need healers at all? Haven't humans developed some instant-regeneration medicine or something by now?"
Aina's expression softened.
She nodded slowly.
"That's a great question," she said. "Would you like the short answer… or the long one?"
Nova didn't hesitate.
"Make it as long as possible," he said. "Talking is the only thing keeping me from passing out."
Aina smiled faintly and leaned back against the sofa, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
"Alright," she said. "Then I'll start from the beginning."
She raised one finger, and a small holographic diagram bloomed into existence above her palm—layers of anatomy, veins glowing faint blue, Vana currents pulsing through the body like living rivers.
"You're right," she began. "Humanity developed instant-healing medicine a very long time ago."
The diagram shifted.
"We have compounds that can close wounds in less than a second. Others can reattach severed limbs—perfectly. They rebuild neurons, reconnect every muscle fiber, every blood vessel, every synapse… without scars. No rejection. No loss of function."
Nova's eyes widened slightly despite himself.
"Sounds overpowered," he muttered.
"It is," Aina agreed calmly.
She flicked her finger.
The hologram changed.
"But those medicines only work on normal humans."
She turned to Nova.
"You see, once someone's Vana density exceeds a certain threshold—roughly above a two-star threat classification—their body stops accepting external medical influence."
The hologram showed a vial entering a bloodstream… then dissolving instantly.
"The moment healing medicine enters their system," Aina continued, "the intense Vana flow destabilizes it. The compound breaks apart before it can act. To the body, it's foreign. Weak."
Nova frowned. "So the stronger you are… the harder you are to heal."
"Exactly," Aina said. "At that point, the body no longer responds to medicine. It responds only to Vana."
She raised her hand slightly, and a soft blue glow flowed between her fingers.
"That's why healers exist," she said. "We don't heal wounds with chemicals. We heal them by using our Vana to interact directly with the patient's."
The hologram shifted again—two streams of light colliding, stabilizing, flowing together.
"Our Vana collides with theirs," Aina explained. "It supports it. Guides it. Encourages regeneration. And because our Vana carries healing properties, it allows their own Vana and body to repair the damage from inside."
Nova stared.
"So you're basically… you're helping their vana and wounds to reconstruct themselves quickly and properly?"
"That's a good way to put it," she said.
Nova swallowed.
"…Then what happens if you run out of Vana?"
Aina answered without hesitation.
"Then we wait."
She looked him straight in the eye.
"We can't heal anyone until our Vana recovers."
Nova exhaled slowly. "That's… terrifying."
"In simple terms," Aina continued gently, "those medicines you mentioned are extremely weak when it comes to soldiers like you. That's why healers are necessary. And why we have to master our craft."
She raised a finger again.
"Healing isn't just pouring Vana into someone. It requires extreme focus. You have to understand the exact flow of Vana inside the patient's body, how it reacts to damage, how the wound interferes with it—then adjust your own Vana accordingly."
The hologram showed complex branching flows, overlapping layers, micro-adjustments happening in real time.
"It's slow to learn," she said. "And incredibly demanding."
Nova let out a quiet breath.
"That must be hard."
Aina nodded.
"That's why," she said, "there are only two zero-star healers capable of instantaneous regeneration and capable of healing any wound."
She paused.
"Miss Lorriel… and me."
Nova turned his head slightly to look at her.
"…Why?"
Aina lifted her hand and gently pointed to her eyes.
They began to glow.
Not brightly—but deeply. A soft, penetrating silver light that felt like it could peel reality apart layer by layer.
"I'm a member of the royal family," she said calmly. "I possess these eyes."
The glow intensified for a moment.
"They allow me to see directly inside the body. Vana flow. Cellular damage. Neural patterns. Everything—instantly."
The light faded.
"So I don't need time to analyze. I already know."
Nova hesitated.
"Does Miss Lorriel have something like that too?"
Aina smiled—soft, respectful, almost reverent.
"No," she said. "Nothing like that."
She looked away slightly.
"She's simply been doing this for so long that she understands the nature of Vana… and the bodies of every species… perfectly."
Her voice lowered.
"She's someone shaped entirely by hard work and relentless effort."
Aina folded her hands again.
"I can only look up to her."
A faint, irregular sound broke through the low hum of machinery.
Nova stirred first.
His head rolled slightly to the side, neck muscles protesting as he forced one eye open. The ceiling above him warped and bent like it was made of liquid glass.
"…Looks like someone else is up," he muttered, voice sluggish.
Aina straightened immediately.
She rose from her seat and turned toward the neighboring bed just as a small movement caught her eye.
Kiyomasa's fingers twitched.
Then his chest rose sharply as he inhaled, his body tensing before slowly relaxing back into the mattress.
Aina walked toward him, her steps light, measured.
"Kiyomasa…" she called softly.
Kiyomasa lifted his head a little.
His eyes were open—but unfocused. He blinked once. Twice.
"Oh," he said pleasantly. "Miss Aina. Did everything go alright?"
Aina nodded. "Yes. You all have your AMI marks now."
Relief washed over his face instantly.
"Thank God—" he paused. His brows knit together. He blinked harder. "…But wait."
He waved a hand slowly in front of his face.
"Why can't I see?" he asked. "My eyes are definitely open."
Aina chuckled quietly, covering her mouth with the back of her fingers.
Kiyomasa froze.
The smile vanished.
"…Why is everything black?" he blurted out, panic rising. "Why is everything black?"
"Relax, Kiyo," Nova called from his bed, not even bothering to lift his head.
Kiyomasa turned toward the sound. "Nova? What is going on?"
Nova exhaled, staring at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him.
"It's a trade-off," he said flatly. "We gain AMI marks, but we lose something."
He shifted slightly—and immediately regretted it.
"I'm dying over here," he continued. "Everything I hear sounds weird, like voices are passing through water. And if I try to sit up, the entire world starts spinning like it's trying to kill me."
Kiyomasa swallowed hard.
"That can't be—" he turned sharply away from Aina's direction, even though he couldn't see her. "You didn't tell us something like this would happen, Miss Aina!"
Aina blinked, a confused smile forming. "I didn't?"
She tilted her head. "I'm sure I did."
Nova nodded weakly. "Yeah. You're blind for the rest of your life."
Kiyomasa's breath hitched.
"…It can't be," he whispered. "I hate looking at black."
"That's racist, Kiyo," Nova said.
"No! That's not what I meant!" Kiyomasa snapped instantly.
Aina laughed softly. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. It's temporary."
Kiyomasa relaxed all at once, sinking back into the bed.
"Oh," he said. "I see."
A beat passed.
"…I told you both not to go quiet."
"I've been continuously talking for one hour," Aina replied calmly.
"And me for the past twenty minutes," Kiyomasa added.
Nova groaned. "Just… talk about something. Anything."
Aina tapped a finger against her cheek, thoughtful.
"Then tell me," she said gently. "What have you decided to do after the war is over?"
Nova turned his head slightly. "…What?"
"You're heading straight for the front lines," Aina continued. "There must be an end goal. Something you want. Or do you just plan to fight and fight?"
Nova was silent.
Then he sighed.
"For now," he said quietly, "it's just fighting."
Aina considered him for a moment.
"Think of an end," she said. "In the middle of a harsh battlefield, that's often the only anchor you'll have."
Nova thought for a second.
"…I see," he said genuinely. "Thank you for telling me."
Aina smiled. "No big deal. It's an elder's duty."
"That reminds me," Kiyomasa said suddenly. "How old are you?"
Aina's smile widened slightly. "How old do you think?"
Kiyomasa thought hard.
"You're Queen Elziora's younger sister… so maybe thirty or forty?"
Aina burst into laughter.
"That's not even close!"
Nova spoke in the same half-dead tone. "The queen is way older. So… one hundred and twenty?"
Aina nodded. "Close enough. I'm two hundred and twenty."
"How many—?!" Kiyomasa gasped.
"Too old, right?" Aina said cheerfully.
"A little too old," Nova replied.
Aina laughed. "Not really. I'm half-fairy, and I possess an AMI mark. My lifespan is extremely long."
"…Then how old would that be in human years?" Kiyomasa asked.
Aina thought. "Around twenty."
Nova blinked. "So you'd be younger than us."
Aina smiled. "However, I'm not."
A sudden voice echoed inside their heads.
"Then how old is the queen?"
Aina stiffened.
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked around.
Nova and Kiyomasa froze as well.
"…Miwa?" Nova asked aloud.
"Yep!" Miwa replied inside his head.
"You're using telepathy?" Aina asked.
"Yep!"
"Get out of my head," Nova said flatly. "If you're awake, just talk normally."
Miwa sighed. "I've been awake since before Kiyomasa. I just can't move or speak."
Aina nodded. "Temporary paralysis."
"At first I panicked," Miwa admitted. "But after you explained it, I understood."
"Then why wait so long to use telepathy?" Nova asked.
"…I forgot I had it."
Silence.
Then another bed rustled.
Nova slowly turned his neck. "Looks like Jennie's up too."
"Jennie?" Kiyomasa asked softly. "How are you feeling?"
"My vision's… hazy," Jennie murmured.
Aina approached her, placing a hand on her forehead briefly.
"Can you see now?"
Jennie blinked.
"…Thank you, Miss Ain—" she froze, eyes widening as she jumped back. "WHAT IS THAT?"
Aina tilted her head. "What do you see?"
"You… have the face of a salmon."
Aina's shoulders drooped. "I didn't know I was that ugly…"
"You're really pretty!" Kiyomasa blurted.
Aina smiled. "Thank you."
Jennie turned toward Nova. "What happened to you?"
"Headaches," Nova replied weakly. "Why are you making that face?"
"…Your face looks like a wolf."
"An alpha?" Nova asked.
"A wolf."
She glanced at Kiyomasa. "You look like a frog."
"…I suppose," he said uncertainly.
"What about me?" Miwa asked.
"That scared me," Jennie snapped.
"Sorry—"
She peered toward his bed. "…You look like an axolotl."
"A what?"
"Oh, I've heard of those!" Kiyomasa said.
"So we all have weird things happening?" Jennie asked.
Aina nodded. "Yes. Kiyomasa is blind. Miwa is paralyzed. Let's see what Minos and Ai wake up with."
Jennie squinted. "Minos looks like a turtle. Ai looks like a koala."
Nova let out a weak laugh. "Suits her."
Moments later—
"What is going on—"
Ai bolted upright, then clutched her throat.
"…What happened to my voice?!"
Her voice came out absurdly low and childlike.
Nova collapsed into laughter, nearly falling off the bed.
"WHY does it sound like that?!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
"SHUT UP YOU A—!" Ai shouted—only making it worse.
---
The world returned slowly.
Darkness peeled away in layers as Zazm's eyes opened, light filtering back in with a dull pressure behind his skull. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—smooth, metallic, threaded with faint luminous veins that pulsed quietly like a distant heartbeat.
He sat up.
The movement was controlled, but there was a slight delay, as if his body responded a fraction of a second after the command reached it. His gaze swept across the room, calm and unreadable.
Zephyra hovered nearby, her form faintly shimmering, purple hair drifting as though submerged in water rather than air.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice close—too close to be mistaken for sound alone.
Zazm nodded once. "Fine."
Zephyra studied him for a moment longer, eyes glowing faintly like miniature galaxies.
"The process is complete," she said. "Here. I brought you some clothes."
She gestured, and the folded garments floated gently toward the edge of the bed.
Zazm swung his legs over the side and stood.
The moment his feet touched the floor, his balance faltered. His body leaned forward, strength momentarily abandoning him.
Before gravity could finish the job, Zephyra dropped the clothes mid-air and caught him, one arm bracing his chest, the other steadying his shoulder.
"Are you okay?" she asked instantly.
"My head," Zazm said, voice flat but quieter than before.
"You should sit down."
He reached down, picked up the pants from the floor, and straightened slightly. "It's fine."
He pulled them on with deliberate movements, hands steady despite the faint tremor running through his legs.
Zephyra retrieved the shirt and stepped closer, lifting it to help him into it. Her fingers brushed his wrists as she guided his arms through the sleeves.
Zazm sat back down on the edge of the bed without resistance this time.
She leaned in and began buttoning the shirt for him, her movements careful and unhurried.
"Don't rush it," she said softly.
"These aftereffects," Zazm muttered.
"It's a given," Zephyra replied, fastening the final button. "However, yours are much more minor."
Zazm stood again, reaching for the coat draped over the nearby chair. He slipped it on smoothly and adjusted the collar once.
"Let's go."
Zephyra nodded—and instead of floating, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his back, her presence solidifying just enough to rest against him.
Zazm took a few steps before stopping.
"Why are you walking today?" he asked.
Zephyra smiled, a glint of mischief flashing in her eyes.
"I wouldn't want to be a burden to someone who can barely walk."
Zazm's expression didn't change.
He turned and walked toward her instead. "Are you calling me weak?"
She shrugged.
In one smooth motion, Zazm bent down, grabbed her shoulder and legs, and lifted her effortlessly.
Zephyra laughed softly. "Fine, fine. I get it."
Her body dissolved into weightlessness as she floated upward and settled onto his back like usual, arms crossing over his chest, chin resting against his shoulder.
"Happy now?"
Zazm didn't respond.
She poked his chest lightly. "You just can't smile or anything, can you?"
No answer.
He started walking again.
At that moment, a figure entered the room.
Every head turned.
Aina's eyes went wide.
She rushed toward Zazm immediately. "You shouldn't be walking right now."
"I'm fine," Zazm replied.
"That's cheating," Nova muttered from his bed. "Why isn't he having some weird shit happen to him?"
"Is everyone up?" Zazm asked.
"Minos is left," Jennie replied.
Kiyomasa turned his head toward Jennie's voice. "Jennie, what does Zazm look like?"
"He looks like a sheep."
A voice echoed inside Zazm's mind.
Let me explain. Basically, Jennie is seeing everyone as animals. Nova is a wolf. Kiyo is a frog. Miss Aina is a salmon. I'm an axo… something. Ai is a koala. Minos is a turtle. And you're a sheep.
"I see," Zazm said aloud.
He turned toward Nova. "What happened to you?"
Nova waved a hand weakly. "A lot of things."
He tilted his head toward Ai. "Not gonna give a witty remark?"
Ai stayed silent.
Nova chuckled weakly. "You should definitely hear her speak, Zazm. Her voice is very… beautiful."
Ai clenched her teeth but said nothing.
Suddenly, another bed stirred.
Zazm's gaze shifted. "Looks like he's up as well."
Minos jolted awake.
His eyes went wide as he clamped both hands over his ears.
"WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING, ZAZM?!"
"I'm not," Zazm replied calmly.
"You okay?" Nova asked.
Jennie leaned forward with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?" Kiyomasa echoed.
"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!" Minos screamed. "YOU'RE ALL SPEAKING SO LOUDLY IT'S HURTING EVERY PART OF MY BODY!"
Aina stepped forward. "I think your hearing got way too boosted."
"WHAT?!" Minos shouted. "I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU'RE SPEAKING TOO LOUDLY!"
Aina snapped her fingers.
A strange, sleek pair of adaptive headphones materialized in her hand. She gently placed them over Minos' ears.
"Can you hear us now?"
Minos exhaled deeply, shoulders relaxing.
"…Yes," he said. "It's better now."
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