The glare stuttered along his cuffs, sketching thin bars of radiance that crawled over the immaculate fabric before bleeding into the blank horizon.
His lenses glinted red and blue, his grin unchanged, as if Elias's sacrifice were just another rule in the system's game.
Nothing in his posture hinted at reverence—only practiced poise, like a presenter waiting for the next slide to load.
"Take it, Kikaru," he urged again, voice smooth, almost sincere, the shard hovering above her cupped palms. "He gave you this chance—don't waste it."
The words drifted between them, bright and hollow, echoing off the colorless sky until they sounded like the instructions printed on a test form: choose, submit, proceed.
She didn't look at him. Her gaze stayed on Elias, on the fading outline of his body, the blood drying at the corner of his mouth, the echo of his grin frozen on lips that were no longer there.
