Page 123 of The Last Morgan

With a steadying breath, she took the headset from Barnaby’s hands and carefully placed it over her head. The weight of it was heavier than she expected.

Barnaby took her hand gently and produced a small, sharp lancet. He pricked her finger quickly. Lucy hissed but didn’t pull away.

A single bead of blood welled up. She pressed it against the small port on the side of the device.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then —

A low hum filled the air. The television flickered, the static seeming to shimmer.

"What's that noise?" Lucy asked, her voice tight with unease.

The others looked around in confusion.

"What noise, Lucy?" Corey asked, frowning.

To them, the television remained a swirl of grey and white — meaningless. But to Lucy, the world behind her closed eyelids was shifting, forming something deeper, something alive.

The static wasn’t static to her. It was language — symbols, codes — whispering across her mind like a song half-forgotten.

Somewhere deep inside her, something stirred.

The device was waking up a part of her long buried — or long hidden.

The hum grew louder. Lucy flinched, a small whimper escaping her throat.

Her body jerked once, violently, and then again. "Something’s wrong!" Corey barked, leaping to his feet, reaching out to rip the headset off her head — but Byron threw himself between them.

"You can’t!" he shouted. ""

"She's seizing!" Corey roared, shoving Byron aside.

But just as he reached for her, Lucy’s hand shot up and latched onto his wrist with inhuman speed and strength.

"Leave it," she commanded in a voice that wasn’t entirely her own — deeper, stronger.

Byron stared at her, with a smile on his face.

Reluctantly, he backed away.

The spasms lessened. Lucy’s body slackened slightly, though she still trembled like a leaf caught in a storm.

The hum reached a deafening pitch — and then, suddenly, it cut out.

The television shifted.

No longer static.

A video began to play.

The image was blurry at first, then sharpened into focus. A figure appeared — no, two figures — standing together.

A man and a woman, both beautiful in an otherworldly way, their features almost too perfect to be real.

To the others, their speech sounded like clicks and purrs.

But to Lucy, every word was crystal clear — like coming home. They were the ones from her dream, standing in the snow in the background.