Jonah was at the Genesis forge, with his eyes closed, reaching out across impossible distances. Nine hours. That's how long he had been doing this. Nine hours of stretching his consciousness across the galaxy, touching minds that barely held together, trying to build bridges between broken souls and ancient ships.
It hurt in ways he didn't have words for.
"Your vital signs are spiking again," Vanessa's voice came through the comm, tight with worry. "Jonah, you need to take it easy."
"I can't." His voice came out hoarse. "Almost done. Just one more."
The fourth Weaver's mind felt like broken glass. A girl, he thought. Her name had been erased by Sterling's process, replaced with a designation.
Subject 47.
"It's okay," he whispered into the psychic link, knowing she couldn't really understand words anymore. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to help."
