Not a memory. Not an illusion.
Him.
Weightless. Translucent. His body hung at the very center of the structure, arms slack at his sides, head angled slightly downward, as if sleep had caught him in the middle of a thought. His skin looked pale through the glow, tinted blue by the crystal's inner light.
And just beneath his ribs—
Her steps faltered.
A gash split his torso wide, as if something had burst outward from his center. The edges were jagged, burned in places. Not cauterized. More like the energy had forced its way out and his body hadn't been able to contain it. There was no fresh blood, only dried streaks trapped inside the crystal walls like paint sealed behind glass. His uniform was half shredded, part of it melted into his side, part of it hanging from him in blackened strips.
The shard pieces in her palms started to pulse.
Hard. Loud.
