Atlas sat on the edge of the command platform, staring at the data streams flowing across the central display. The Weave had been stable for weeks, but something new was happening.
Links that had been shallow were deepening on their own. He felt it first as a faint tug in his chest, like someone else's heartbeat syncing with his. Then came the echo.
A flash of Clara's focus hit him—sharp, steady, the way she calculated risks during a breach. It wasn't words. It was pure feeling, overlaid on his own thoughts for three seconds. Atlas blinked hard and stood up. "Clara, you sensing this?"
From the adjacent station, Clara turned. Her eyes met his, and for a split second, he caught a glimpse of his own determination reflected back at her through the link. "Yeah. It's the Soul Weave kicking in stronger. The integration protocols hit threshold yesterday."
Before either could say more, the door slid open. Flick burst in, costume half-torn from rehearsal, face split in a wild grin.
