It's been a long time. Loki and his allies bid farewell to Saigid, Lyutich and Hanchu at the abandoned camp that was their home where they hid from the president's men.
Sulys is physically exhausted at this moment. The use of the sponsorship ability hit his body: trembling in his hands, heavy breathing.
Saigid sinks to one knee, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The weight of the ability's backlash crashes into him all at once—his hands tremble, his vision blurs at the edges, and every muscle feels like it's been torn apart and stitched back wrong.
He doesn't speak as Loky and his people vanish into the mist—no farewell, no thanks. Just silence.
Because he can't.
His jaw clenches tight against the pain as Hanchu rushes to his side.
"Saigid!" Hanchu says sharply.
"I'm… fine," he lies through gritted teeth — voice rough, broken almost — before adding in a low whisper,
"Just… give me a minute."
"Hanchu!" Someone shouted from around the corner
Hanchu was wary. He was answered by the crestallos, the people who were with him in the warehouse.
"Simon" relaxed Hanchu's shoulders.
"I'm glad you're okay," Simon said, looking at his friends nearby. "we hid who was where after the president's spies attacked our warehouse and took everyone away"
"Why?" came Lyutich's voice.