"WE LOST FRIENDS."
The Altered children of Sword Station stared at Pyra where she stood, on top of a desk on the bridge, space stretching infinitely behind her. Not a single face in the crowd lacked a grim expression, and more than a few were shedding tears. Con had worked around the clock for three days to remedy the most serious of injuries, now looking up to Pyra with bags under his eyes. There were still plenty of scrapes and bruises to go around, though none were life-threatening.
"Some of us lost family," Pyra continued. She paused, waiting for her words to echo over the children. Nervousness roiled in her stomach, which she regarded with an odd kind of amusement. Even after braving the horrors of Sword Station, public speaking remained one of her biggest anxieties. "Loss is nothin
