"I don't like him," Revas announced as they sprinted across the manicured lawn of Sector 4, keeping low behind the hedges. "He vibrates with anxiety. It makes me want to put him in a jar."
"He's my friend," Mirabelle hissed, checking the path ahead for patrol drones. "And he's scared of you. Most people are."
"It's not fear," Revas argued, his boots making no sound on the grass. "It's... performance. Did you see how he fell? He managed to land perfectly on the only mossy stone in the greenhouse. It was choreographed clumsiness."
Mirabelle stopped at the edge of the Crystal Arboretum, pulling Revas down into the shadows of a topiaried elephant.
"You are paranoid," she whispered. "Aris has always been like that. He's soft, Revas. Not everyone is a centuries-old void monster born in the darkness."
Revas narrowed his eyes at the glowing glass structure ahead. "Soft things rot, Mirabelle. And rot spreads."
Mirabelle ignored him. She focused on the target.
