The new pulse threaded through her blood, tracing the paths it had followed once, long ago, when the infection invaded her cells and rewrote things that were never meant to be rewritten. It brushed against that history like fingers over scar tissue.
But there was no scar to be found.
Not a single ridge, not a hint of discoloration.
Just a complete replacement of everything that she was.
Her creature uncoiled fully, a dark tide pressed behind the thin veil of her human shape. It didn't push outward. It didn't lash or strike. It simply existed with its full weight, no longer pretending to be small.
The machine met that weight—
—and its light dropped out for half a second.
Everything went dark.
Kearns screamed. She slapped her hand against the override panel outside the door, fingers flying, trying to command a system that had stopped listening.
"Come on, come on—reset—reset—"
"Stand down, Doctor," Mercer ordered.
