The fractured core beneath Elias's collarbone burned.
The twenty-six-hour Earth window was closing fast. The dimensional tether connecting his soul to Giselsin stretched tight against his spine, an invisible hook demanding immediate payment. He sat on the edge of the thin military cot, bracing his elbows on his knees to keep his torso upright. The compression binder squeezed his ribs, turning every intake of the facility's stale air into a sharp ache.
Marcus sat on the adjoining mattress, pulling his knees tightly to his chest. The tech recruit stared across the subterranean barracks, his bright orange prison jumpsuit marking him as a prime target. A dozen Vanguard fodder soldiers occupied the far wall. One of them ran a rusted whetstone down the edge of a scavenged combat blade, the scraping noise echoing over the low hum of the air recyclers. Another soldier picked dirt from under his fingernails with a jagged piece of metal, his hollow eyes flicking toward the two defectors.
