The air hadn't lifted. The tension remained wrapped around the back of Kivas' skull, dull and steady, like the ache of a storm behind the eyes.
Samael and Azulus had drifted into another bout of verbal exchange, their voices hardened by calculation and differing instincts. Kivas could barely register the content of it—Samael's clipped, cutting tones and Azulus' steady, scared, yet unwavering counters collided like steel on steel.
It wasn't heated in volume, but sharp in intent as the two of them were insistent on their own path that could barely find any middle ground. Words like "recklessness," "priority," "risk factor," and "pointless endeavor" flared in between the static of Kivas' disorientation.
Each sentence passed over her as if her mind was filtering the world through fog.
Her breathing remained steady, but her focus slipped, carried inward toward a memory that had never fully left.
