"Valdrake."
"What."
"Why are you helping me? We're supposed to be enemies."
"'Supposed to be' is a phrase that describes a world I'm not interested in living in."
He held my gaze. The Starfire in his eyes burned — but steadier now. The crystal in his palm was already working, the Void lattice drawing off the first trickle of excess energy.
"I still don't trust you," he said.
"That's fine. Trust the crystal. It works regardless of your feelings about its maker."
The ghost of a smile. Not warm — not yet. But present. The first expression that occupied the space between hostility and respect, where all the most interesting human relationships began.
He walked away. The golden light was marginally dimmer. The crystal glowed faintly purple in his hand — Void Aether doing what Void Aether did best, absorbing the excess, creating absence where overabundance had been.
The villain, helping the hero survive the world's attempt to weaponize him.
