"Elian, can you please tell me your plans?"
He looked over, watching her tendrils pulse as they wrapped around the jagged Tyrant fragments—still large enough to look like broken doors. The core was taking longer than usual to digest, probably because it was a full boss core, not just a sliver of one.
Bianca's visage was eating. Again.
A conjured turkey sandwich floated in her hand. She spoke between bites like it was the most natural thing in the world.
What are you even doing, Bianca?
Elian smiled as living metal tore apart the corpses around them.
"There's not much to say, Master," he replied calmly. "Short term, I'm restoring your HP. Midterm, I want to stockpile Tyrant cores to act as your HP piggy bank. Long term…"
His voice trailed. The boy gazed at his fists as he clenched them, his brows twitching.
I should tell her when I have a plan. It's too early.
He smiled again, turned to her, continuing.
"I'll tell you later. Right now, your health comes first."
