Nyxia and Perseus didn't speak much on the walk back. The city's underlevels breathed around them, vents sighing steam into narrow corridors while neon bled weakly across wet stone. Every step tugged at Nyxia's wounds, but the pain felt distant now, blunted by adrenaline and something colder she didn't want to name yet. Loque padded silently at her side, tail low but steady, his presence grounding in a way nothing else quite managed. Boo's place loomed ahead, all velvet shadows and guarded doors. "She's not here," Perseus murmured after a brief exchange with one of Boo's attendants. Nyxia exhaled. "Figures." They were led instead to their private room tucked deeper within the den. Warm light greeted them, amber and soft, the kind meant to coax tension out of tired bones. Steam drifted from the adjoining bathing chamber, carrying the faint scent of herbs and mineral salts.
Nyxia didn't hesitate. She shed what little she still wore and stepped into the shower chamber, letting the heat hit her full on. It stung. It grounded. Blood spiraled briefly down the drain before thinning to pink and disappearing entirely. She braced one hand against the stone, breathing through the ache as steam curled around her shoulders. Perseus remained outside, seated on a low bench with Loque sprawled at his hooves, massive paws crossed, eyes half-lidded but alert. The steady rhythm of water filled the space between them, constant and unhurried.
After a while, Perseus spoke. His voice was careful. Measured. Like he wasn't sure where to step. "You don't have to talk about it." Nyxia snorted softly, scrubbing dried mud from her forearms. "That usually means you want me to." A pause followed, longer this time. "I saw you," he said then, quieter. "When it started to turn. In the ring. When it stopped being a show." Her hands slowed. Water ran over her fingers, over knuckles split and swollen, carrying flecks of blood toward the drain. "I know." "You didn't freeze," Perseus said. "You didn't break." "No," she replied. "I just…" She exhaled, leaning her forehead briefly against the cool stone. Steam fogged her breath. "I stopped pretending it was anything else."
The water continued its steady fall. "I could hear the crowd," she went on, voice thinner around the edges now. "Feel them. All of it. But it was like they were behind glass. Like none of it could reach me anymore." Loque shifted at Perseus's hooves, tail thumping once against the floor. "You scared me," Perseus admitted. That earned a short, humorless laugh from inside the chamber. "You should've seen it from my side." Silence settled again. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just there. After a moment, Perseus cleared his throat. "Found something," he said, letting the subject shift. "In the armor." Nyxia straightened slightly, rinsing her hair back. "Please tell me it's not another curse." A soft huff of amusement answered her. "Tag stitched into the lining. Inside seam. Small."
She stepped closer to the archway, steam curling around her shoulders. "And?" He read aloud, tone dry. "If found, return to Skivv." Her brow arched. "Charming." "Typical," he muttered. "He probably tags every prize he hands out. Ensures he gets them back eventually." She laughed, low and sharp. "He's either very confident… or very greedy." "You can be both," Perseus said, rising to his hooves and stepping back to give her space as she emerged, towel wrapped around her.
She dried slowly, deliberately, then reached for the armor. The moment she slipped into it, something changed. The plates sealed with a whisper, molding to her shape without resistance. The bodysuit beneath flexed like muscle, the void-thread runes settling into a low, steady hum against her skin. Pain dulled almost instantly, not gone, but pulled back, like someone had turned the world's volume down. Nyxia inhaled. Then exhaled. She rolled her shoulders. Flexed her arms. Took a step. Another. The armor moved with her, silent and obedient.
"Feels like it's adjusting to me," she said, voice thoughtful. Perseus watched closely. "You look steadier." She dropped into a low crouch, fingers brushing the floor, then surged forward in a sharp lunge. No drag. No hesitation. If anything, she felt lighter. "I feel stronger," she admitted. "And faster." Loque rose, spectral form shimmering faintly as he circled her once, tail flicking. His eyes never left her movements. Protective. Measuring.
Nyxia looked down at herself. Black. Sleek. Purpose-built. "I could get used to this." Perseus glanced at her sidelong. "You might have to." She paused, then looked up fully. Lamplight caught in her eyes, dark and speckled like distant stars. "You still think Boo's going to help us?" "I think," he said, folding his arms, "that Boo doesn't help anyone unless she's helping herself first." Nyxia exhaled. "Then we'd better make ourselves useful."
He nodded once. "We'll talk to her soon. Get the full shape of her plan. But for now… rest." She sat on the edge of the divan. Loque padded over and pressed his muzzle against her thigh before curling beside her, warm and solid despite his spectral nature. She rested a hand on his head, fingers threading through fur, grounding herself. Perseus turned toward the door, then paused. "Nyx?" "Hm?" "You look good in black." She smirked. "Tell me something I don't know." He chuckled once, brief and real, then tapped the plates at her hips. "Void-thread lining. Enchanted weave in the joints. This isn't scrap armor. He knew what he was giving you." Her fingers stilled against Loque's fur. "Then the question is… why?"
A soft chime echoed from the corridor. "She's waiting," Perseus said. Nyxia stood, bow slung over her shoulder in one smooth motion. Loque rose with her. "Ready?" she asked. Perseus nodded. "Let's go find out what Boo really wants." They stepped into the hall together.
The doors to Boo's den slid open on warm amber light and scent thick enough to taste. Lotus and jasmine tangled with something darker, heavier. The room felt smaller than before, intimate by design. Boo lounged on a velvet chaise like a queen with no intention of apologizing for it. Crimson lace clung to her curves, sheer in places, threaded with fine gold chains that caught the light when she shifted. One shoulder lay bare, rune at her collarbone pulsing faintly. She lifted her gaze slowly, smile blooming as it traced Nyxia from boots to throat.
"Well," Boo purred. "If it isn't my favorite troublemakers." Perseus stiffened and immediately found a wall very interesting. Nyxia rolled her eyes. Loque snorted. "You wore my little gift," Boo added sweetly. "The insult you left instead of clothes?" Nyxia asked mildly. "If I wanted to insult you," Boo said, sipping her wine, "I'd have left heels and a leash. The swimsuit was inspiration." Perseus choked. Boo grinned. "Word travels fast. Half the market's still talking about the pale huntress in lace and the paladin blushing like a chapel boy." "I was not—" "You absolutely were."
She circled Nyxia once, eyes flicking to the armor. And then she stopped. Something shifted behind Boo's gaze. Her smile thinned. Focus sharpened. "Shadowplates," she murmured. "Dusksteel lattice. Adaptive enchantments." Nyxia held still. "We earned it." "I'm sure you did." For just a moment, Boo frowned. A flicker of something like recognition. Then it vanished. She leaned back, crossing her legs. "Since you're geared and gorgeous… let's talk business."