Silence pressed down like gravity, heavy, suffocating, absolute. No one dared move. No one dared breathe too loud. Not after that. It was Riven who broke it. The only one who could. The only one Ashar trusted enough to say it. “Ash.” His voice was quieter than usual, missing the sharp, reckless bite that usually coated it like a shield. “Ash,” he repeated, then firmer. “We need to talk.”
A ripple went through the room. Not words. No movement. Just the subtle tension of everyone knowing this was not a request. Ashar’s crystalline eyes flicked toward Riven. They held for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then, without a word, Ashar stood. His coat dragged against the fractured floor, boots echoing softly in the unnatural space. No command. No explanation. Just a sharp
