35. Fires of Forging

The Wraith hummed with quiet urgency as it soared above the rust-red canyons of Kesthara. Inside, tension simmered under every word, every glance.

Elara sat in the training bay, wrapping gauze around a cut on her forearm. Nova approached, tossing her a nutrient bar.

"You going to keep absorbing psychic data until your brain melts, or are we taking turns this time?"

Elara gave a tired laugh. "Only if you want to live in my nightmares."

Nova smirked but sat beside her. "You're not the only one with ghosts, Voss. Just the only one stupid enough to download them."

They sat in silence for a moment, the kind that said more than words.

Lyne's scans brought them to their next target: an abandoned forge deep within Kesthara's volcanic basin. The heat was suffocating, but the energy readings were undeniable.

"This place was a forge... but not for weapons," Lyne said. "They were making something alive."