The Citadel's gates sealed shut behind them with a metallic groan. The white hum of its shields rolled outward, washing away the stink of smoke and blood from Sector Eight.
Vyn staggered two steps forward before her knees gave in. The chains that had flared around her were gone now, flickering out like burned wires. She caught herself on the wall, breath ragged, silver eyes dimmed.
Silas dropped to the floor beside her, fists still clenched, veins still glowing faint from the storm of energy he'd swallowed. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling heavy.
He spat blood onto the floor, teeth grit. "We should've stayed. I had him."
Vyn didn't look at him. She just sighed, pressing her hand against the wall for balance before pushing herself upright. "You had nothing. If I hadn't pulled us out, you'd be dead on the ground with him standing over you."
Silas's head snapped toward her, eyes sharp. "You think I can't keep going?"
