The thrall arrived under full restraint, wrists and ankles locked in the heavy suppression cuffs, residual current still leaking from the hollowed channels under her skin. Two temple guards half-carried her into the interrogation chamber. Her head lolled.
The eyes were open but empty of anything that could be called will. The personal frequency that had once belonged to the lost anchor still clung to her like a second skin.
Aiden stood at the observation rail with Selene and Vesper. The chamber's wards hummed at maximum containment. Every surface was layered with active script, designed to bleed foreign signal into the floor before it could climb the walls.
"Bring her under," Selene ordered.
The thrall was lowered onto the central slab. Suppression bands tightened across her chest and thighs. The residual glow under her skin dimmed but did not die.
