Usually, when he thought of Lena, he saw her face, and it was followed by a stabbing pain—the memory of the hospital, the flatline. That was the old grief. The inhibitor.
The pain was immediate.
"Hello?" a woman’s voice said. It sounded raw, but steady. "I saw your loadout. You're running a Triad configuration?" poly g+
Jax raised his hand in return.
He closed his eyes.