“You’re clenching your jaw again,” Gimble chirped, its single optical sensor whirring. “Your cortisol levels suggest imminent organic shutdown.”
Leo tapped a small, illicit chip on the underside of his console. “I’m not going to fight the chaos. I’m going to surf it.” The Assessment began without fanfare. One moment, Leo was staring at a green "Ready" prompt. The next, the entire control room plunged into crimson emergency lighting. the assessment bdmv
Gimble buzzed excitedly. “You passed. Also, your heart rate is 142 beats per minute. You should probably sit down.” “You’re clenching your jaw again,” Gimble chirped, its
“Let’s never do that again.”
“Yes?”