Her arm began to bend. The amber liquid swirled, catching the light of the sterile office. She tried to think of her brother, of the rebellion, of the reason she had broken into the Central Hub in the first place. But the memories were becoming blurry, like ink running in the rain.
The glass hummed. That was the first thing Elara noticed—a low, tectonic vibration that didn’t come from the room, but from the base of her skull. mind control
"Drink," the Voice said. It wasn't a sound. It was a thought that arrived with the weight of a stone falling into a deep well. Her arm began to bend
"What is your directive?" the Voice asked, this time through the room's speakers, crisp and real. of the rebellion