There was absolute silence in the outpost.
Outside, the acid rain eased into a steady hiss, rinsing away the gray sludge that had once been the Mindshroud.
Inside, the air reeked of sweat and rust.
Bran lay on the metal floor near the support pillar. He was unconscious, curled tight like a child.
His heartbeat was steady, but his face was pale, almost bloodless. Daniel stood by the doorway, wiping rain and slime from his hands with a rag he had found.
Daniel's heart began to beat hard, not from fear of the monster, but from the tension filling the room.
He checked his Databand. The notifications of his kill and the stats started glowing softly, a secret victory only he could see.
He felt stronger. The assimilation of the Mindshroud had poured power into his veins, sharpening his mind and knitting his muscles.
But when he looked up, he didn't see relief on his teammates' faces. Ragnar stood by the window, looking out into the dark.
