The air inside the abandoned fish-packing plant tasted of old salt, rotting scales, and lingering dampness. It was heavy enough to stick to the back of the throat, but to Bao, who had spent the last hour monitoring Kian’s shallow, erratic breathing against the cold concrete floor, it was the sweetest smell in the world."His core temperature is stabilizing," Bao muttered, his knuckles gray as he pulled the manual diagnostic rig away from Kian’s wrist. "The erratic spiking has completely flatlined."Mei Ling didn't lower her weapon, keeping her back pressed against the salt-cracked brick wall beside the rusted metal doorway. She stared down at Kian’s face, watching the pale, slack expression of a man who looked like he had just walked back from the edge of an abyss. "Flatlined? Is that medical speak for he’s waking up, or medical speak for we need to start digging a shallow grave behind the brine vats?""It means the internal timer has stopped," Bao snapped back, wiping a smear of dark

"Easy," Bao muttered, his old hands darting forward to catch Kian’s shoulder as the younger man tried to force himself upright and immediately pitched sideways like a drunkard. "Don't try to stand too fast. Your vestibular system isn't running on an automated stabilization script anymore."Kian’s elbow slammed hard against the damp concrete floor, sending a sharp, purely organic jolt of agony shooting straight up his forearm. He hissed through his teeth, clutching his elbow with his other hand while squeezing his eyes shut against a wave of genuine, unmitigated dizziness. "My head," he groaned, the words thick and clumsy on his tongue. "It feels... empty. Like there's a hollow space behind my eyes where something heavy used to be.""That's called silence," Mei Ling said, stepping away from the doorway now that the distant hum of corporate skiffs had finally faded into the steady roar of the rain. She holstered her sidearm with a sharp metallic click that echoed off the brine vats. "Yo