"E.T.A is five hours for landing," a sterile voice crackled through the ship's speaker system.
The hum of the engines rumbled in the background as Nioh wheeled himself toward one of the embedded medical monitors. The soft blue glow from the screen lit up his sharp features, casting a cold light over the dark circles under his eyes. He'd been analyzing Akron's vitals for hours now — every breath, every heartbeat, every microscopic shift in her recovery.
The stone altar beneath her was warm to the touch, pulsing with subtle life. Just hours ago, Akron's body had been skeletal — her skin ashen, her breath weak and uneven. But now, as if time had been reversed, color had returned to her cheeks, her skin soft and full, and her hair had grown several inches in silky waves. Life, once on the brink of slipping away, now poured back into her.
