For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the dashboard lit up with a cascade of diagnostic data—not for the car, but for the human nervous system. Synapses fired in holographic gold. Axons branched like highways. And at the center of it all, a single corrupted node pulsed angry red.
“Her neurons are misfiring,” Mara whispered. “Like a short circuit. No doctor can map the errors. But you… you can see the broken wires in anything. Can’t you?” cardiagn
The Ferrin’s engine roared. Not with aggression—with purpose. Rosalind was offering a pact. Mara would have to connect Elara’s nervous system directly to the car’s diagnostic core. It was impossible. It was insane. It was the only way. Axons branched like highways