The medical bay of the orbital station was clean, bright, and sterile—a world away from the rust and gloom of the Cathedral. I sat on the examination table, wrapped in the emergency coat the extraction team had given me, its fabric stretched taut across my shoulders and barely meeting at the front. The chalice sat on a nearby counter, already catalogued and tagged for later assessment.

Doctor Helene Voss was a woman in her sixties, grey-haired, sharp-eyed, and utterly unflappable. She'd seen plenty of strange things in her decades of station practice. But even she had paused when I'd shrugged off the coat and let her see the full extent of the Cathedral's work.

She'd run every scan she had. Density scans, hormonal panels, deep tissue imaging. She'd taken blood samples, hair samples, even a small tissue biopsy from my hip. And now she sat across from me, a data-slate in her hand, her expression carefully neutral.

"The scans are conclusive," she said. "The cellular changes are... thorough. Your adipose tissue has been restructured at a fundamental level. The collagen matrix in your skin has been reinforced. Even your skeletal structure has adapted—your pelvis has widened, your ribcage has expanded to accommodate the additional mass."

"Permanent?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Barring some kind of experimental gene-therapy I don't have access to? Yes. This is your body now." She set the slate down. "The good news is that you're healthy. Remarkably so. Your cardiovascular system has adapted to the increased load. Your spine shows no signs of strain, though I'd recommend you start wearing proper support soon, or that won't last."

"A bra."

"Several bras. In series, if necessary." She allowed herself a small smile. "I'm serious, Sera. Your back is under a lot of stress. You've essentially gained fifty pounds of breast tissue in the span of a few hours. That's a shock to the system, even if your body has adapted admirably. Get fitted for a good support bra. Wear it religiously."

"Anything else?"

"Give yourself time to adjust. The psychological component is just as important as the physical." She stood. "And maybe invest in a new wardrobe. That coat is doing you no favors."

I looked down. The emergency coat was a standard-issue station garment, designed to fit a range of body types. It did not fit mine. The front gaped open, showing the …