"Cut!" Thalatha barked, voice sharp as an officer's whistle.
The Riftborne's staff flicked. The halo snuffed. The shard dropped, an ordinary lump of bone again, dumb and harmless. The Crymber Twins moved in mirrored steps—pale frost kissed the filament, ember heat snapped it brittle. It cracked into glitter that smelled metallic, then faded. Hypnoveils lifted their mantles and threw a soft blind at the lotus, as if closing a curtain in an old house when a storm flashes. Rodion vented sterilant that burned Mikhailis's nose clean and left the air sudden and empty.
The seed inside the lotus twitched like a sulking child and went still again. The chain settled with a tired sigh.
Mikhailis let the tension bleed out of his jaw. He hadn't realized until now he was grinding teeth. "We got what we needed." His heart ticked hard. Sower. Borrowed bark. I will find you. He tucked the words away like knives.
