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Summary
Her breathing was shallow, barely there, each faint inhale a soft whisper against the cold, unforgiving glass of the pod. The only sign of life was the mist she exhaled, fogging the smooth surface like a fleeting memory fading on a winter morning. Her chest rose and fell so little it was as though her body had forgotten how to breathe properly. The stillness pressed against her like a heavy weight. Her eyelids remained shut, even as the warmth of the awakening process began to stir her from the depths of suspended time.
