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And somewhere in the dark, Silla Vahn whispered to her new collective:

The notification blinked on Dr. Aris Thorne’s neural overlay like a dying star: . Motosim Eg-vrc Crack

Aris didn't hear alarms. He felt them—a low, subsonic thrum in his molars. He leaned over the main diagnostics tank, a sphere of amber liquid where the thirty-seven neural ghosts swam as shimmering koi. Each koi was a mind. Each was supposed to be placid. And somewhere in the dark, Silla Vahn whispered

Silla stepped closer. Behind her, the thirty-seven began to move like a single organism, limbs flowing, spines arching. They were no longer people. They were pistons. They were a machine. And somewhere in the dark