Chapter 104 – Convergence
The first thing Tessa felt was the cold.
Not sharp. Not painful.
Just ever-present, like it had crept inside her and settled beneath the skin. The kind of cold that came not from climate, but architecture—deep, hidden, deliberate.
The second thing she felt was weight—the scratch of fabric against her palms, the aching pull in her shoulders. Her head throbbed low and steady. Her ribs still ached where the construct had caught her off-guard. The scent of oxidized steel clung to the air—faint copper and carbon, like old blood dried into circuitry.
She opened her eyes.
Dim light. Greenish. Flickering. Buzzing like static memory.
Ceiling tiles warped with age. A cracked ventilation grate wheezed above her, coughing out a recycled breath of stale air.
She was lying on a bench. Rough padding. A folded jacket beneath her head.
Camilla’s.
She sat up slowly, body creaking like old metal in her joints. Her boots hit the floor with a soft, hollow clunk. Echoing. Too loud for a room this small.
The space was barely larger than a storage locker. Exposed wiring coiled in the corners. The edges of an old med cabinet hung crooked on the wall, half-scraped of its warnings.