Page 37 of Charged By the Razorbacks

The display shifted again, pulling in additional footage—two larger figures entering frame, their movements heavier, more aggressive, but no less effective.

Jarek and Aleksy Kawolski—the Razorbacks.

“They have bonded,” a third voice noted.

“Not fully,” another corrected. “Not yet.”

A pause.

“Does it matter?”

Silence followed.

Brief. Considered.

“No,” the first voice said. “It accelerates convergence.”

The data changed again. Naomi Bishop. An image of the woman from pre-capture, and one post-capture.

Medical projection overlays. Neurological degradation curves.

Stability thresholds.

“She survived initial exposure,” one voice observed.

“Barely,” another countered.

“Which is still survival.”

The system recalibrated around it, projections shifting in real time.

“Adjust dosage parameters,” one of them said. “We refine through resistance, not failure.”

“And the loss of the site?”

“Acceptable.”

No hesitation. No regret.

“Relocation is already underway.”

The silence that followed this time stretched longer.

Not uncertainty. Consideration.

The final figure moved then, their silhouette sharpening slightly as they leaned forward.

When they spoke, the room shifted.

Authority didn’t need volume.

“She is the key.”

No one asked who. They all knew.

Tamsin.

Her name settled into the space, heavier than anything that had come before it.