Her voice tore through the open landscape, sharp and unyielding, the kind that carried the weight of both anger and disbelief.
The echo of it seemed to linger in the air, clinging to the cold tension between them as Dreilla's grip on Jinn's collar tightened.
Her knuckles whitened, her jaw set like stone, but Jinn didn't flinch.
He simply stared back into her eyes—steady, unblinking, unreadable.
No apology.
No explanation.
Just the kind of silence that felt heavier than any retort.
*fhwip!
Without warning, he swatted her arm away with a swift, dismissive motion, breaking her hold as though it were nothing more than an annoyance.
The sudden release made her stumble half a step back.
Jinn didn't wait or look back—he walked right past her, the faint metallic click of his synthetic arm's joints sounding as he moved, brushing her shoulder in the process.
It wasn't accidental.
