At first, there was no sound.
Just pressure.
Buzz floated in it — weightless, skin burning, heart hammering too fast to keep up. He couldn't tell where his body ended and the light began. Everything pulsed in rhythm. Every pulse hurt.
The air around him shimmered like liquid gold, folding and unfolding. Threads of energy moved through him, each one cold at first, then scalding. When he tried to move, they moved with him — like veins that didn't belong to him anymore.
He forced his jaw open. "Get… out."
No voice came back. Just vibration.
Then another pulse. Stronger. A shape began to form in front of him — not solid, not smoke. Something between both. It flickered through faces: the Queen's, the doctor's, Zza's. It lingered on the last one too long.
Buzz's teeth clenched. "You don't get to wear her."
The thing tilted its head, mimicking his movement. Then, without sound, a phrase rippled through his mind. *You are a good template.*
