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Or at least the absence of threat. I reached for the canteen I’d set aside earlier, half-expecting him to reject it again. Holding out the canteen again, I simply said, “Water.” He needed it.

To my surprise, he didn’t resist as I held the canteen to his lips. He drank greedily, his eyes never leaving my face.

Evaluating. Calculating. Even in his weakened state, the warrior’s mind remained sharp, analyzing potential threats and advantages.

“Easy,” I murmured. “Small sips.”

When he’d emptied the canteen, I set it aside and hesitated. The burns along his lifelines needed treatment, but I had nothing except...

I tore a strip from the hem of my shirt, dampened it with the few drops of water remaining in the canteen, and reached toward one of the burns on his chest.

He tensed but didn’t pull away as I began gently bathing the damaged areas. My fingers moved over his skin with more care than I expected to feel. Every line I touched buzzed with heat, as if the space between us was waking up. Up close, I could see that the burns weren’t just superficial—they penetrated deeper, affecting the lifelines themselves.

Whatever Hammond was using—energy probes, direct current, some kind of field generator—it was specifically targeting the golden patterns, disrupting their natural flow.

“These look bad,” I said, continuing the one-sided conversation. It helped me think, even if he couldn’t understand.

“I’ve seen something similar before, when Hammond experimented on Claire. Like he’s trying to integrate technology with your biology. It’s barbaric.”

The cloth brought temporary relief to the damaged tissue, the Nyxari’s breathing becoming slightly less labored as I worked. I moved to a burn at his throat, where the lifelines formed a complex nexus before branching outward.

Then something unexpected happened—where my fingers brushed near his lifelines, a strange sensation sparked between us. Not pain, but resonance.

A foreign vibration, discordant yet somehow complementary. Like two instruments playing in different keys, creating harmony despite the clash.

I flinched away, staring at my hand where my own silver markings had briefly warmed in response. The sensation spread up my arm, a gentle tingle that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“What was that?” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

His reaction was more pronounced. He withdrew sharply, golden eyes wide with what looked like alarm or even fear.

His tail, previously limp, curled defensively around his body. One hand rose instinctively to the lifeline junction at his throat, covering it as if to prevent further contact.

The moment passed, but something had changed between us. A boundary crossed. A connection established, however briefly.

His expression shifted from alarm to something more complex—wariness mixed with confusion and perhaps a touch of recognition?

I backed away slightly, giving him space. “Sorry,” I said, though he couldn’t understand. “I didn’t mean to... whatever that was.”

He studied me with new intensity, golden eyes narrowed. Evaluating not just a potential threat now, but something specific.

Something tied to the resonance between his lifelines and my markings. From his reaction, this wasn’t a complete surprise to him. He knew something about this connection. Something that disturbed him deeply.

The tremors returned, more pronounced this time. The emergency lighting flickered, then stabilized at a lower intensity.

The Nyxari’s gaze tracked the changes in my markings, his expression growing more troubled. He attempted to sit up, wincing with the effort, but determined.

I reached out instinctively to help, then stopped myself, unsure if he would welcome the contact after the strange resonance.

He managed it on his own, positioning himself against the wall, his breathing ragged from the exertion. His lifelines had brightened slightly as well, though they still appeared erratic where Hammond’s experiments had damaged them.

We sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound his labored breathing and the distant hum of failing systems. The emergency lighting continued to fade gradually, the blue glow becoming more spectral.

If the power systems failed completely, we might have an opportunity. Emergency protocols would likely unlock the cells as a safety measure.

But without knowing the layout of the ruins, without the Nyxari being strong enough to move effectively, escape might prove more dangerous than remaining captive.

I needed to communicate with him somehow. Establish a baseline of cooperation at minimum. But without a translator stone...