Kaelen didn’t answer. He uncurled his fingers, one by one, and straightened his spine.
The Synthari dreadnought was gone. A bloom of violet fire marked its grave. The remaining swarm-ships, leaderless and confused, were scattering. His crew was cheering—a raw, hysterical sound. navarch ability cooldown 17.6 seconds degree 100
Now, .
He knew he was still standing. He always was. His body was a prison, locked in place, hands still gripping the table, eyes wide and unseeing. A perfect statue. The crew’s terrified glances would slide over him. Is he dead? Is he praying? Is he even human anymore? Kaelen didn’t answer
He was falling through a void made of sound. A child’s lullaby twisted into a dirge. His mother’s voice, but speaking Synthari binary. He tried to scream, but his lungs were full of static. The needles came—ten thousand of them, sewing his eyelids shut, stitching his lips together, threading his nerves into a knot of pure agony. A bloom of violet fire marked its grave
“Damage report,” he said, his voice steady. As if he hadn’t just spent seventeen seconds dead to the world. As if degree one hundred was just another tool in the box.