"I—" Alden swallowed. "My name is Alden. Greetings, Zephyr."
His voice faltered.
Zephyr was quiet but that sharp eyes never leave him. "Hello, Sir Alden, what can I do for you?"
Alden looked out of it, he rummage the item he stuffed inside his pocket. "I'm… mostly done. But there's a... problem."
The words dissolved the moment they left his mouth. The data he had rehearsed vanished, evaporating as if it had never existed. His mind refused to work, too busy doing something else—something far more dangerous.
Memorizing him.
Every line. Every expression. Every breath. Filling in the hazy image that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember.
"I think…" Alden said softly, almost to himself, "…I dreamed you into life."
Zephyr froze, "....what?"
Shock flickered across his face—brief, but unmistakable.
Someone had said that to him once.
Long ago.
When he was trapped inside a tube, suspended in cold liquid, and that person stood outside, watching him.
