DAY THREE: STILLNESS
White ceiling. Antiseptic smell. Healing energy humming through walls.
Rama opened his eyes slowly. The medical wing. He'd been here three days, they said. Felt like three minutes. Felt like three years. Time moved strangely when your body was piecing itself back together from catastrophic damage.
He tried to sit up. His body refused the command.
Not paralyzed. Just—disconnected. Like his brain was sending signals through thick fog, and only half of them arrived. The corruption purge had cleansed him thoroughly, but left everything feeling hollow. Empty. His corruption resistance had jumped from forty-seven to fifty-three percent through intensive treatment, but the cost was this strange numbness pervading everything.
"Don't move."
Sekar's voice came from his right. She sat in a chair beside the bed, still wearing her armor. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her hair was tied back messily. How long had she been sitting there?
