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I staggered back from the junction box, disoriented by the sudden blindness. My foot caught on uneven ground, and I nearly fell.

The world tilted sickeningly, my equilibrium failing without visual reference points. I stretched my hands out, seeking something solid.

“Ravik?” I called through our bond, panic rising as I waved my hands in front of my face and saw nothing. Cold sweat covered my skin, my heart racing too fast, too erratic.

“Status?” The shield was down—I could feel the absence of its energy field, a change in the atmospheric pressure against my skin—but I couldn’t see it.

Couldn’t see anything. My legs gave way, and I collapsed near the junction box, fighting to stay conscious as pain radiated through my entire body.

The ground was hard beneath me, stones digging into my palms as I caught myself. The interface had cost me my sight.

How temporary, I couldn’t know. But we had minutes, perhaps seconds, before someone noticed the shield failure.

I forced myself to my knees, then to my feet, one hand against the wall for orientation. The rough texture of the compound’s exterior helped ground me as dizziness threatened to send me back to the ground.

Though blind, my other senses sharpened in compensation. The night air carried scents I hadn’t noticed before—the mineral tang of nearby rocks, the faint organic smell of native vegetation beyond the perimeter, the distinct odor of burning from the explosion site.

Sounds reached me with new clarity—footsteps running within the compound, the hiss of emergency suppressant systems, someone shouting orders two hundred meters to my left. Most distinctly, I felt energy patterns through my markings.

Not visual, but a kind of spatial awareness—concentrations of power, active systems, even the subtle differentials of the terrain ahead. The data came as impressions, intuitive rather than analytical, but usable.

“Ravik,” I called again through our bond, pushing through the pain to send my location. The connection felt stronger now, perhaps from necessity.

“I can’t see.” His response came not in words but in a wave of concern followed by determination.

He was coming for me. I just had to stay upright, stay conscious until he arrived.

The sounds of the compound in chaos helped orient me—alarms blaring, shouted orders, running footsteps. None close yet, but they would be soon.

I stumbled forward, following the wall, hoping I was moving toward our planned exit point. Without vision, each step was a nauseating challenge.

My hand along the wall was my only guide, the texture changing beneath my fingertips—metal to stone, smooth to rough. The bond was my lifeline, Ravik’s presence growing stronger as he approached.

A hand gripped my arm, and I nearly struck out before recognizing the familiar energy signature through our bond. Ravik.

His touch sent a surge of connection through our bond, his concern hitting me in a wave, followed by grim determination. The smell of him—mountain stone and that distinct Nyxari scent—was instantly recognizable, comforting despite our dire situation.

“Shield down,” I managed to say, my voice strained. Pain still radiated from my markings, which continued to absorb energy.

“But I can’t—” “I know,” he replied, his voice low and tight.

His hand moved to my upper back, the touch both supportive and guiding. “Can you move?”

“Yes.” A lie, but what choice did we have?

The darkness was absolute, disorienting, but I refused to be a liability. “Lead the way.”

His hand shifted on my back, guiding me forward as the compound’s alarms continued to wail around us. Each step was agony, my body still processing the energy overload, but the alternative was capture—or worse.

Hammond’s “decontamination” procedures for marked women were the stuff of nightmares. “Three steps clear,” Ravik murmured, his voice and the bond our lifeline in my darkness.

“Guard left!” I followed his guidance blindly, literally, as we moved toward freedom and the dangerous wilderness beyond.

The ground changed beneath my feet—concrete to packed earth, then to the rockier terrain outside the compound’s immediate perimeter. The night air grew cooler against my face as we moved away from the compound’s heat signature.

My markings became a different kind of sense—like a radar system detecting obstacles before I reached them. Without sight, every other sense became crucial to survival.

And with Ravik’s steady presence beside me, we might just make it.