The RS8's cockpit unsealed with a soft hiss as Tokkyu got ready to step out.

Her legs felt solid beneath her - no tremors, no wobble. Just the usual fatigue that came with three hours of pushing a stellarator-powered craft through Rod Canyon's unforgiving switchbacks.

Her race engineer, Felway Wells, was already waiting with a data tablet, eyes scanning telemetry readouts.

"Good session," Felway said while intently looking at his data. "Sector two times are improving. We'll need to talk about that oversteer in turn seven, but otherwise - clean work."

"Mhm." Tokkyu unclipped her headbrace from the cockpit anchors, feeling the neural interface disconnect with a faint tingle at the base of her skull. "It felt great out there. Asta's responsive."

"Good," Felway affirmed. "Get some rest. Debrief's in an hour."

Tokkyu nodded and headed toward the team lounge, pulling off her gloves as she walked. The garage hummed with activity - mechanics swarming over the RS8, engineers conferring in tight clusters. The post-session chaos she was used to.

She pushed through the doors into the quieter stairway that led to the lounge.

And then she felt it.

A strange... disconnect. Like her thoughts were traveling through water before reaching her body. She lifted her hand curiously, watching her fingers curl. The movement felt right, but there was something off about it - a delay she couldn't quite identify. As if her brain had issued the command a fraction of a second before her hand obeyed.

Odd.

She shook it off and kept walking.

Alano was in the lounge, slouched in one of the booths with a drink in hand, scrolling through race footage on his Glass. He glanced up when she entered.

"Hey. Good session?"

"They were okay." Tokkyu dropped into the seat across from him, leaning back. "Felway seemed happy with the times."

"He always seems happy when you're not crashing."

Tokkyu snorted. "Low bar."

They fell into easy conversation - Alano complaining about a journalist who'd cornered him earlier asking about his family heritage for the hundredth time, Tokkyu half-listening while trying to figure out what was wrong with her. She opened her mouth to respond to something he'd said, but the words came out a beat slower than she'd intended.

"You good?" Alano asked, frowning.

"I... yeah, I think so." She rubbed her temple. "I don't know, it's just- do you ever feel like there's a delay? Between thinking something and doing it?"

Alano sat up a bit straighter, his casual demeanor shifting slightly. "Delay?"

"Like-" She gestured vaguely. "Like my brain's working fine, but it feels like my body is lagging behind. Does that make sense?"

He studied her - thinking about it for a bit - then nodded slowly. "Sounds like pilot's delay. Happens sometimes after long sessions. Your neural interface was hooked in for what, three hours?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah, that'll do it." He stood, setting his drink down. "You should get checked out. Medical unit's probably still open."

"It doesn't seem that serious-"

"Miyahira." His tone was firm, but not unkind. "C'mon."

She sighed, but he was right. "Fine. I'll see you in a bit."

The medical unit was a sterile white room tucked into the back of the team's temporary facility at Rod Canyon. Dr. Stach, Arctara's on-site physician, ran a quick diagnostic scan and confirmed what Alano had suspected.

"Synaptic latency - or 'Pilot's Delay'," he said matter-of-factly, pulling a small case from a cabinet. "Nothing to worry about, but you'll want to take these."

She handed Tokkyu a blister pack - extra-strength nervous relievers, along with a mild neural stabilizer.

"Take two now, one more in four hours if the symptoms persist. You'll be fine by tomorrow."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Your nervous system just needs time to recalibrate after extended interface exposure. It's common." Dr. Stach gave her a reassuring smile. "Try to avoid any high-intensity neural activity for the rest of the day. No sim racing, no complex coordination tasks. Just rest."

Tokkyu popped the pills dry and left the med unit feeling marginally better, though the delay was still there - a faint, irritating drag on her movements.

Back in the lounge, Alano was still on the couch, but he'd pulled up some kind of strategy breakdown on his Glass. He looked up when she returned.

"So?"

"You were right - Pilot's Delay. Got some meds for it." She held up the blister pack. "Doctor says I'll live."

"Good to hear." He gestured to the operator ready-rooms beside him. "You look like you need to sit down before you fall over."

She didn't argue. After asking Alano to accompany her, she sank onto her bench, letting her head fall back against a cushion. The meds were starting to kick in - she could feel the edge of the delay softening, her thoughts moving a little more fluidly.

"Thanks," she said after a moment. "For the heads-up."

"Don't mention it." Alano went back to his Glass, but his tone was lighter. "Besides, can't have you stumbling around like a lost sheep while I'm here. Would make me look terrible in front of the press."

"Shut up."

They stayed there for a while, Tokkyu drifting in and out of focus as the medication worked through her system. Alano occasionally narrated something from the footage he was watching - some rival team's botched overtake attempt, a particularly clean line through a difficult section. She hummed acknowledgment when appropriate, but mostly just let the sound of his monologue take over.

By the time her ready room's privacy lock beeped to signal the end-of-day reminder, she felt almost normal again. The delay had faded to a barely perceptible hum at the edge of her awareness.

"Let's go," Alano said, standing and stretching. "We should get out of here before someone tries to rope us into a debrief we're not required to attend."

Tokkyu grabbed her gear bag and followed him out. The canyon air was cooler now, the sun dipping below the ridgeline and casting long shadows across the RSEC facility. The team's shuttle was waiting to take them back to the hotel.

They climbed aboard in silence, and as the shuttle lifted off, Tokkyu leaned her head against the window, watching Rod Canyon shrink beneath them.

"You still alright?" Alano asked from the seat across.

"Yeah." She glanced over at him. "I'm good."

He nodded, satisfied, and turned his attention to his Glass.

Tokkyu closed her eyes and let the hum of the shuttle's engines carry her the rest of the way back.