The room stilled.
Lucen stayed on his knees, coat torn, palms raw, blood drying slow on the side of his temple. His breath rasped low in his chest, sharp, shallow pulls that barely moved the ribs he'd taken a polearm to. But he was conscious. Awake. Watching.
Varik stepped onto the platform with a soundless gait, boots making no echo on the scuffed stone. He didn't go to Lucen.
He went to the trio.
The girl was already on her feet. Slight limp. Burn marks visible along the side of her arm where the Ignition Burst had landed. She didn't complain. She just adjusted the straps on her glove, exhaled once, and straightened.
The spear-wielder stood beside her, polearm down now, held loose in one hand like a walking stick. His knuckles were pale under the grip.
The enhancer sat on the edge of the platform wall, shoulder rolled forward, dabbing a cloth at his lip. Blood. Not much. Just a trace from where he'd nearly taken the Piercing Flare's rebound head-on.
