Jinx had stopped cleaning her rifle.
Chloe had stopped her frantic typing.
All eyes were on the holographic display, where a single progress bar was slowly, agonizingly, filling up.
[DECRYPTING… 98%…]
[99%…]
Michael's heart hammered against his ribs.
This was it.
The final ghost.
The last piece of the puzzle.
[DECRYPTION COMPLETE. PLAYING FILE: FOR_MICHAEL.MP4]
The holo-table flickered.
It wasn't a video, not in the traditional sense.
It was a direct psychic imprint, a memory pulled from the drive and projected into the room.
The image that formed was a little hazy, a little soft around the edges, like a forgotten dream.
It was a woman.
She was sitting in what looked like a small, cluttered workshop, not unlike Jinx's own secret stash. Tools and strange, glowing components were scattered across a workbench behind her.
She was beautiful, her face a heart-wrenching mix of fierce intelligence and a deep, soul-weary sadness.
She had his eyes.
