At first, it didn't feel like pain.
That would have been easier to understand.
Pain had edges. Pain had limits. Pain could be located, resisted, endured.
This
Was everywhere.
Camille's fingers tightened around the armrests as the screens around her surged with motion. Lines of data streamed too fast to follow, shifting patterns that should have been meaningless—but weren't. Not anymore.
Because somehow
She could feel them.
Not see.
Not read.
Feel.
Like the information wasn't outside her.
It was moving through her.
Her breath hitched.
"Stop" she said, her voice unsteady. "Make it stop."
"You're not in danger," the man replied from behind her.
"That's not what it feels like!"
Her pulse spiked harder, her chest rising and falling too quickly as something sharp flashed across her mind an image, a pattern, a sequence she didn't recognize but understood instantly.
Coordinates.
Access points.
Systems.
It vanished as quickly as it came.
But it left something behind.
