Elara used her first free breath on the wounded officer.
She turned away from Caleb, crossed the flooded track, and knelt beside the man whose support band had taken a strip of wrist.
"Pressure higher," she told the depot medic. "Artery is intact. Contact burn under the thumb."
The medic adjusted the wrap.
Elara looked at the officer.
"You chose removal?"
He nodded against the platform wall.
"Keep the paper tag. Do not let them replace it with a white band."
Her control strip hung loose at her throat.
Kim's correction filter printed across a broken station kiosk.
```
NO SUPPLIED DESTINATION DETECTED.
NO MOTOR OVERRIDE DETECTED.
RESPIRATORY CONTROL LOCAL.
```
The Woman had given them proof.
Proof was part of the sales pitch.
Elara checked it herself.
Two fingers to her throat. One hand against her lower ribs. She took four breaths at four different lengths, then held the fifth until the depot medic told her to quit showing off.
