The sick bay doors slid open with a low hiss, the cold white light spilling out across the floor.
Lucian stepped inside, Karl's unconscious body nowhere in sight for now—only his sister in his arms.
Lucy was pale but steady, her breathing soft and even against his chest. The fight hadn't left a mark on her skin, but he could feel it—the faint turbulence in her aura. Something was changing.
He crossed the room and laid her gently on one of the medical beds. The sheets were crisp, the faint hum of the ship's systems filling the silence.
From the ceiling, a sphere of black metal descended—no larger than a man's head. Its segmented plates shifted, and an iris-like lens opened at the front, scanning in rapid flashes of blue light.
"Subject identified," the ship's AI said through the speakers, its voice deep, smooth, and cold. "Initiating full diagnostic scan."
