Lucas flexed his fingers as the new bracer adjusted to his arm, a subtle pulse running along the inner lining as the sync-thread flickered to life. Sleek. Perfect fit.
He looked down at the polished steel—etched faintly, discreetly, with Ava's schematic signature on the underside—and couldn't help the quiet satisfaction in his smirk.
"You rebuilt my arm."
"It was outdated. Didn't take much." Ava said without looking up, already sealing the tools back into her kit. "You can thank me later."
"Oh, I will," Lucas replied, twisting his wrist until the bracer locked into place with a soft, magnetic click. "Classic sync symbolism. Very romantic."
"It's efficency," Ava muttered.
Lucas turned, just in time to catch Keel watching them rubbing his shoulder, thinking too loudly.
"You know," he said lightly, "people think systems are all raw data—stats, scan ranges, labeled types. But the truth is, every user's got something they never list."
Keel looked up. "A hidden ability?"
