Page 65 - DeepRestFlipFinal

DEEP REST
His face was contorted in effort. His breathing
shallow, ragged. He was struggling. The external
world was too loud.
Despair. It was impossible. She was asking too
much.
Then, a subtle shift. His breathing deepened,
becoming more rhythmic. His facial muscles relaxed,
just slightly.
He was going in.
The Vision
Liam was falling. Not downwards, but inwards.
Past the helicopter's roar, past the pounding of his own
heart, past the fear. The sounds were a fragile lifeline,
pulling him into the stillness.
He saw colors. Not the vibrant, pure colors of his
first session, but muted, almost corporate hues. Greys.
Blues. The sterile gleam of polished steel.
He heard voices. Not words, not yet. Just a
murmur, a low hum of power and control.
Then, faces. Flashes. Brief, unsettling glimpses.
Men in suits. Not the goons who had attacked the
clinic, but older, colder faces. Faces of wealth and
influence.
He saw a symbol. A stylized, interlocking double
helix, almost like DNA, but with a predatory twist. It
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