Vera stood at the edge of the bridge, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her purple hair spilling loose over her shoulders as she stared at the holographic display flickering before her.
The blue glow bathed her face, casting sharp shadows across her skin as she traced the jagged spike of the explosion graph—the princess's ship, now a smoldering memory in the void.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically against her arm, a restless tic that betrayed the storm brewing behind her sharp, narrowed eyes. Thebe lingered in her mind, a name whispered in fragments from Syn's past, a moon tied to Elara Voss and the secrets that had died with her. She needed to know more—needed Syn to fill the gaps, to unravel the thread that might explain the Kingdom's next move. The shapeshifter purge had left her crew battered, her trust frayed, and every unanswered question gnawed at her like a splinter under a nail.
