Lucian didn't answer immediately.
Alistair's words lingered in the space between them, still hanging there like they didn't know the conversation had already moved on.
_You really were going to do all this alone._
The shrine was quiet again now.
Not peaceful.
Just exhausted quiet—the kind that came after danger had already passed but didn't fully leave.
Lucian clicked his tongue softly and pushed himself up from the shrine floor. His muscles protested faintly from the night's chaos, but he ignored it like he ignored anything that didn't immediately threaten his survival.
"Stop talking like you're emotionally invested in my survival," he muttered.
Alistair didn't respond right away.
That silence alone made Lucian glance at him.
Alistair was still sitting against one of the broken shrine pillars, watching him in a way that didn't quite match his usual personality. Less arrogance. Less irritation. Less performance.
Not soft.
Just… steady.
