The first sign that something was wrong wasn’t the alarm. It was the heat. Not the kind that came from a fire — this was sharper, alive, crawling across Jessica Knight’s skin like static that knew her name. “Knight, hold position!” Torres’ voice crackled through her comm. She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because in the center of the corridor, through a haze of heat distortion, Daisy Palmer stood — lab coat thrown over scrubs, hair half-tied, eyes wide behind protective goggles — and every inch of the world around her was shifting. Boxes shook. Air vents warped. Metal shelves hissed.And Jessica could feel it — a pulse, syncing to her heartbeat, threatening to erupt.“Palmer!” she shouted, instinct pulling her forward before reason could stop her. “You need to move, now—”The words broke off as the lights blew out. For one second, the world was pure white — a wave of heat and pressure expanding outward — and Jessica was running through it, no weapon, no shield, only this primal, impossible pull. The shockwave froze midair, red energy suspended like molten glass — then collapsed inward, vanishing between them in a burst of light.Torres’ voice broke the silence: “Knight, report! What the hell was that?!”Jessica exhaled, eyes still locked on Daisy — her own reflection glowing faintly red in the younger woman’s irises. “…That,” she said hoarsely, “wasn’t the chemical reaction.” A pause. “It was us.”