How to be a G , he’d titled his own course. Matrix Defiance. Absolute Power.
But the words didn’t come. They got lost somewhere between his inflamed throat and the crushing weight of nothing .
The Medbay, it turned out, was the only real G he’d ever met. Because it didn’t care about his rank. It just took him apart, piece by piece, and waited to see if anything real remained.
In the silence, a strange thought surfaced—not an affirmation, not a mantra, but a simple, terrifying fact: You are not a god. You are a patient.
He put it down.
But here he was. Defeated by a virus.
When he woke up, the fever had broken. Tristan was eating a sandwich. The sun was rising over the concrete. Andrew reached for his phone, thumb hovering over the camera app.
The Medbay didn’t care about his Bugatti. The virus wasn’t impressed by his masculinity. The nurse wouldn’t sign up for his war room.