Rhosyn's voice broke the quiet as they stepped into the building, the door closing behind them with a muted thud.
"Despite everything," she said, "I still have to find the other Primordials."
Trafalgar glanced at her sideways as they moved down the corridor. "You're serious."
"I always am about this," Rhosyn replied. "Scattered, we won't stand a chance against the Void Creatures. Whatever grudges remain, whatever blame still lingers—it won't matter when the next war begins."
He let out a short breath through his nose. "Right. In that case, I'll just hope they don't kill me on sight when we meet."
The attempt at humor was thin, but it was there.
Rhosyn didn't react.
She didn't sigh, didn't shake her head, didn't offer reassurance. She simply kept walking, her expression unchanged, eyes forward. The lack of response said more than words could have. This wasn't a joke to her. It was a real possibility, one she had already accounted for.
