Liam returned to his laboratory.
Not immediately, and certainly not without restrictions, arguments, medical threats, and enough supervision to make him feel like a volatile artifact in his own facility.
But he returned.
As Arik had promised, Marin gradually increased the hours Liam was permitted to work. Two became three, then four, and eventually six, provided he took regular breaks, ate on schedule, did not use his ether channels, and submitted to the monitoring ward glowing beneath his shirt whenever his body decided he had become too ambitious.
Six hours with breaks was not freedom.
It was close enough to become dangerous.
The Vanguard had suffered during his absence, though not from neglect. His team had kept it stable, documented every alteration, and resisted the temptation to touch anything they could not explain, which Liam considered evidence that at least some of his training had survived him.
