Lincoln POV:
The meeting chamber does not look like a battlefield now.
That's the first thing I see when I walk in—not the people, the map spread out over the table, but the air—the windows left open—the clean lines of the sunbeams falling upon the floor—the stone—the space below, wherein the land itself stirs awake with movement, un-bracing itself, un-prepared to be seen with Dunskbane.
The world is breathing.
My hands rest on the lip of the table, rooting into the stone. The Chrono-Forge presses quietly against my back, devoid of any hint of a hum, temporal resistance, or itchiness beneath my ribs that said things were off or otherwise about to go terribly wrong.
Ayaana stands by my side, close, not guarding me, nor stabilizing me, nor staying.
Just there.
That is more important t
