Chapter 27

Kyle did not linger on the edge of sleep. The moment his eyes opened, he was moving. The workshop remained as he had left it—a cramped, sterile environment smelling of damp earth and acrid chemicals. He stepped to the workstation, his hands moving with a practiced rhythm that felt more like muscle memory than conscious thought. The glass vials clinked softly as he lined them up. He began the process of distilling toxins, grinding dried components into fine powders and monitoring the heat...