A low hum filled the captain's cabin of the Normandy-class vessel, steady and precise like the breath of something massive and mechanical. The lights were dim, casting long shadows against the obsidian-black surfaces and holographic interfaces that flickered quietly in standby.
And then, he stirred.
Damon's eyes opened slowly.
He sat up in the captain's chair, exhaling once as the neural sync faded and the transfer was complete.
His main consciousness had finally returned to the first avatar, the one everyone presumed to be the real Damon Arnan. Unlike the planetary avatar left behind on Earth, this one was not smiling nor bowing to media cameras as well as handshaking world leaders like a proper symbol.
No.
This one had much more important work to do.
He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over the chair's side, the other tapping the edge of the command terminal, and the ship hummed in response.
