Noirette's bare feet padded softly against the grated flooring as she followed Nickal down the corridor, the metal's chill seeping through the thin soles of the patient gown with each step.
The gown itself chafed lightly at her arms, its starched fabric a constant reminder of their provisional status—guests, perhaps, but ones under scrutiny.
Blanchette walked beside her in perfect sync, the white material draping her slender form without a single crease, as if even captivity bent to her unyielding poise.
Nickal led them without haste.
Lab-coated technicians bustled past in controlled flows, their expressions a mix of focused detachment and hurried deference, nodding to Nickal as she passed without breaking stride.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in a vaulted expanse of reinforced trusses that arched like the ribs of some colossal beast.
