**KIAN**
I knew the moment he agreed to meet that whatever thread had been holding this together was already frayed beyond repair, because men like him do not come in person unless they intend to redraw lines rather than negotiate them. The location is neutral in name only, an old stone outpost abandoned after the border shift, its wards long since faded into something ornamental rather than protective, and the air inside smells of dust and cold iron and intent.
Jack is already there when I arrive.
He stands near the far wall with his arms crossed, jaw clenched hard enough that I can hear his teeth grind when he exhales, and the sight of him like that tells me I am not the only one who felt the shift, not the only one who recognized that the ground has moved beneath us while we were bus
