A dissonant, polyphonic hum resonated through the narrow avenues of the municipal hospital quarter, carrying the chilling drone of a forced choir.
Ninety-three injured patients and twelve municipal healers suddenly stiffened in their beds as glowing filaments burrowed toward their temples.
Vella hovered at Hajin's shoulder, her starlight form flickering with distress as she recognized the specific metaphysical frequency.
"The avatar is exploiting my old severance scars..." she whispered through their mental link, her ethereal voice laced with horror.
"The pathways I unsealed while liberating those patients have become open roads back into their minds!" she cried out.
Hajin manifested four rotating silver Rings around his right forearm, letting their bright halos illuminate the dim clinic hallway.
"The choir cannot borrow your classification," he told her firmly, stepping between two thrashing orderly cots.
