(Planet Vorthas, Central Intelligence Wing, Mu Fan's POV)
For the past thirty days, Mu Fan hadn't slept more than thirty minutes a night.
Her lack of sleep stemmed not just from anxiety or fear, but from the relentless churn of her thoughts, as her mind refused to rest while the Cult's greatest political liability remained unresolved.
Luke Skyshard.
The boy was both a blessing and a threat sewn together into one.
His memories had been deliberately altered to keep Leo from discovering the horrors he had endured under the Twelfth Elder and the Cult's authority, but the seams of that deception were beginning to fray, and Mu Fan had been assigned the task of repairing them before anyone else caught on.
No errors. No gaps. No unraveling threads.
She had already discarded two forged timelines, both too fragile to hold under pressure, before finally assembling a version that could survive close inspection.
