Not a memory. Not an illusion.
Him.
Weightless. Translucent. His body was suspended in the very center of the structure, arms limp at his sides, head tilted slightly downward as if sleep had taken him mid-thought. His skin looked pale through the glow, tinged faint blue by the crystal's internal light.
And just beneath his ribs—
Her steps faltered.
A gash split his torso wide, like something had torn outward from his center. The edges were jagged, burned in places. Not cauterized. More like the energy had tried to escape and the body failed to hold it in. There was no fresh blood, just dried patterns, locked inside the walls like paint sealed behind glass. His uniform was half-shredded, some of it melted into his side, some of it clinging like ash.
