The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as Emily stood at the center of the chamber, her mind a storm of doubt and calculation.
The pale blue glow from the Catalyst reflected off the sweat beading on her forehead.
Ambassador Rhys remained a statue, his hands clasped behind his back, his presence radiating a quiet, almost condescending patience.
Lena shifted uneasily beside her, fingers twitching near the grip of her sidearm.
Jared's jaw was set, eyes fixed on Marcel, though his fingers still hovered over the override terminal, as if hoping some last-minute breakthrough might let him shut down the Catalyst himself.
Marcel, pale and trembling, barely met anyone's eyes.
The weight of choice sat on Emily's shoulders, heavier than it had ever been.
"We don't have time for speeches," Lena said at last, her voice low but sharp. "Rhys claims he can neutralize the Catalyst, but why should we trust him?"
