The shrill sound of Athena's alarm broke through the quiet hum of the lab.
She blinked, disoriented, and for a moment thought it couldn't possibly be morning yet. But the digits on her phone confirmed it—5:30 a.m.
Already?
Her back ached when she straightened from the stool she had been hunched over, her fingers brushing across the scattered notes she had filled through the night. Charts, calculations, scribbled hypotheses—all the restless markings of a mind reluctant to yield.
She let her gaze sweep over them, and a flicker of relief warmed her chest. She was closer to a cure today than she had been yesterday, and that was enough. Progress, no matter how slow, was still progress.
She pressed her hand to the base of her neck, rolling the stiffness out. Less tired than before, though a dull pain lingered behind her eyes and along her spine. It was the kind of ache that came from pushing too long, too hard, but she brushed it off.
