(SOFIA QUISPE’S POINT OF VIEW)"If you don’t stop vibrating, Nomo, you’re going to set off the internal sensors before we even reach the airlock," Sofia whispered, her voice tight with a tension that felt like piano wire stretched to the snapping point. She was crouched in the shadow of a jagged piece of hull plating, her sapphire-cracked hand pressed hard against the cold, silver metal of the Seraph’s Sorrow. The flagship lay like a wounded beast across the ruins of the plaza, but even in its broken state, it hummed with a terrifying, predatory energy."It’s not me vibrating, Sofia. It’s the ship. It’s hungry," Nomo replied, his fingers white-knuckled around the grip of his pulse rifle. He was kneeling right behind her, his breath coming in short, shallow hitches. The violet spark in his eyes was erratic, reacting to the massive psychic weight leaking from the Soul-Gem deeper within the vessel. "Zilo, tell me you’ve got the mag-locks bypassed. We’re sitting ducks out here in the open
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