Synesthesia

The chamber breathed with him.

Or maybe it was the other way around.

Fade sat motionless in the dark, legs crossed, spine straight, hands resting on his knees. The Pale Sage's form remained unmoving behind him—like a statue of silence, carved from time itself.

It had been days.

Or maybe hours.

Time refused to be linear here.

His thoughts swam in a slow spiral, not chaotic—but vast. Within that spiral, two presences circled each other. Not beings. Not voices.

Systems.

Chemosense.

The Dicyanin Eye.

At first, they'd been foreign—alien limbs grafted onto his instincts. But here, in stillness, they began to hum in harmony. Not fused, not yet. But aligned. Like two frequencies slowly learning to vibrate together.

A faint pulse echoed from his chest.

[Chemosense – Stability: 78%]

[Dicyanin Eye – Latent Activity Detected]