Lucen's back hurt.
Not because of some deep injury or trauma. Just because the cot was ancient, the air was dry, and he'd spent the last two hours alternating between staring at the ceiling and playing rock-paper-scissors against his system's interface.
The system kept winning.
Which he found offensive.
'Should've coded in a mercy rule.'
The lights in the safe room flickered once, barely noticeable,but the sound came first. A hiss of pressurized air behind the vault entrance. Metal teeth disengaging.
Lucen sat up, shoulders tight.
Boots hit the steps. One at a time. Same even pace as always. No rush. No urgency.
Varik.
The door opened with a mechanical clunk.
Lucen didn't speak.
Varik didn't either. He walked in like he lived here. Calm. Tired, maybe, but composed. His coat was dusted in something, dirt, maybe ash, and one of his sleeves was torn halfway up the arm. Didn't seem like he cared.
Lucen leaned back against the wall, hands resting behind his head.
