Renard finally leaned back against the seat, his gaze cutting through the glass toward the distant spires of the city.
"Yes. And when the jaws close, Aelira…" His voice dropped to a whisper that still pressed on her chest like stone. "It will not be the White Comets that break, it will be the trap itself."
Aelira sat in silence, her datapad trembling faintly in her grip.
Just then, a low vibration stirred the silence, muffled at first but unmistakable. It came from Renard's chest pocket.
Aelira blinked, startled, as a faint, lilting melody followed, a sound so sweet and delicate it felt out of place in the cold, humming transport.
Renard's expression shifted, the smallest crease cutting across his calm mask. Slowly, he reached into his coat and drew out a small, polished white cube. Its surface shimmered with faint glyphs, and at his touch it unfolded like origami, light spilling into the cabin as it expanded into a hovering holographic device.
