Drake didn't answer right away.
Not because he didn't know what Azael meant.
Because for the first time, answering meant choosing a side of himself he couldn't walk back from.
Kara waited. She didn't push. Leadership wasn't about filling silence—it was about seeing whether it collapsed on its own.
Xander shifted his weight. "So just to be clear," he said, "this isn't a metaphor, right? Because I'm running out of energy for—"
"Stop," Azael said.
The word wasn't sharp. It didn't need to be.
Xander froze mid-sentence, then slowly closed his mouth. "Yep. Okay. Got it."
Azael didn't look at him again.
His attention stayed on Drake.
"You've already been choosing," Azael said. "You just haven't admitted which option you prefer."
Drake wiped his face with the back of his hand. His voice came out rough, but steady. "If I stop… things go wrong."
"Yes."
"If I act… they still do."
"Yes."
Drake let out a humorless breath. "That's not a choice."
"It is," Azael said. "It's just not a comfortable one."
Luna spoke quietly. "What happens if he chooses wrong?"
Azael glanced at her—not dismissive, not cold. Honest.
"Then the outcome belongs to him," he said. "Instead of the situation."
Elara frowned. "That sounds worse."
"It is," Azael replied. "For him."
Kara stepped forward half a pace. "And for the rest of us?"
Azael met her gaze. "That depends on whether you continue treating him like insulation."
That landed.
Kara didn't bristle. She considered it. Then nodded once. "Understood."
Drake looked between them. "You're talking like this starts now."
Azael's mouth curved—not a smile. Recognition.
"It already has," he said. "You just noticed."
Drake swallowed. "So what do you want from me?"
Azael shook his head. "That's the wrong question."
"Then what's the right one?"
Azael stepped past him, just far enough that Drake had to turn to keep him in view.
"What happens," Azael said, "the next time you know acting will end it—and waiting will make it worse?"
Drake didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
Azael stopped near the canyon wall and placed his hand against the stone. Not pressing. Not reaching.
Just resting it there.
"We're done walking," he said. "From here on, you move when I tell you not to."
Xander blinked. "That feels backwards."
Azael glanced at him. "You're learning."
Xander exhaled. "I don't like it."
"Good," Azael replied. "Neither will he."
Drake closed his eyes for a second.
When he opened them, he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "Then tell me when not to move."
Azael turned fully now.
"This is the first time," he said, "you didn't ask for permission."
Drake frowned. "I didn't do anything."
Azael nodded once. "Exactly."
Xander opened his mouth, thought better of it, then tried again. "I feel like I missed a meeting."
Kara didn't look at him. "You didn't."
Azael's attention stayed on Drake. "Every other time, you waited for someone else to decide whether your action was allowed."
Drake shook his head. "I was following—"
"You were avoiding," Azael corrected. "Following comes later."
That landed harder than Drake expected.
"So what," Drake said, voice tight, "now I just… go when I feel it?"
"No."
The answer was immediate.
"You go," Azael continued, "when the moment can survive being ended."
Elara shifted. "That doesn't make sense."
"It will," Azael said. "Just not to everyone."
Xander squinted at him. "That feels targeted."
Azael glanced at him briefly. "You would be wrong for different reasons."
Xander leaned back. "Comforting."
Drake exhaled slowly. "So what happens now?"
Azael looked past him, down the channel they'd come through, then ahead into the dark. "Now we walk."
Kara raised a brow. "That's it?"
"For now."
She studied Azael for a beat, then nodded. "Formation stays the same."
They moved.
Not faster. Not slower. Just forward.
The canyon didn't resist. It didn't welcome them either.
After a few minutes, Xander muttered, "This is worse than when things try to kill us."
"Because you can joke at things that want you dead," Luna said. "You can't joke at silence."
"Watch me," he replied, then stopped when no one laughed.
Drake stayed aware of Azael without looking at him. He could feel where the man was, the way you feel a door behind you even when you don't turn around.
"You're waiting," Drake said finally.
"Yes."
"For what?"
"For you to be wrong."
Drake stopped walking.
So did everyone else.
"That doesn't feel fair," Drake said.
Azael turned to face him. "Pressure never is."
Drake clenched his jaw. "Then tell me what you want."
Azael didn't answer immediately.
"When the next moment presents itself," he said, "I want you to choose."
"Choose what?"
Azael met his eyes.
"Whether you're ending it," he said, "or escaping it."
Kara's grip tightened on her bow. "And if he chooses wrong?"
Azael's gaze didn't leave Drake. "Then we'll all know."
Xander swallowed. "I liked it better when the canyon was the problem."
Azael stepped past Drake and continued walking. "It still is," he said. "Just not the most important one."
Drake hesitated—only for a heartbeat—then followed.
They didn't go far.
The channel narrowed into a shallow bend where the floor dipped just enough to force a choice in footing. Not dangerous. Just awkward. The kind of place where momentum punished you if you trusted it too much.
Kara slowed them with a hand.
Xander peered ahead. "I vote we don't do whatever this is fast."
"No votes," Kara said.
Elara crouched, eyes scanning the stone. She didn't comment. That alone was unusual.
Azael stopped beside Drake.
"Don't," he said quietly.
Drake glanced at him. "Don't what?"
"Whatever you're about to do."
Drake frowned. "I wasn't—"
The stone ahead shifted.
Not a collapse. Not a threat. Just a subtle roll along the edge of the dip, like the ground testing weight it hadn't been given yet.
Kara tensed. "Hold."
Drake stepped forward anyway.
It was instinct. Clean. Familiar. A small adjustment—pressing presence into the ground, just enough to firm the edge before someone slipped.
Before his foot even finished the step—
"Stop," Azael said.
Drake froze.
The word wasn't loud. It wasn't forceful.
But the moment stalled around it, like everything had agreed to wait.
Drake's foot hovered half an inch above the stone.
Xander blinked. "Oh. That's new."
Drake swallowed and pulled his foot back.
The ground shifted again—then settled on its own. No slide. No loss. The dip remained awkward, but passable.
Kara exhaled slowly. "Careful. One at a time."
They crossed without incident.
Once they were clear, Drake turned sharply. "I had that."
Azael nodded. "Yes."
"Then why—"
"Because you acted before the moment asked you to," Azael said. "Not because it needed you. Because you wanted it finished."
Drake clenched his fists. "Someone could've slipped."
"And no one did."
"That's luck."
"No," Azael replied. "That was restraint—just not yours."
Xander raised a finger. "For the record, I was ready to dramatically eat dirt."
No one laughed.
Azael kept his eyes on Drake. "Say it."
Drake stared back. "Say what?"
"Why you stepped."
Drake hesitated. Then, quieter, "Because I didn't want to wait."
Azael inclined his head. "Again."
Drake frowned. "What?"
"Say it without justifying yourself."
The canyon was quiet. Kara watched without interrupting. Luna's gaze stayed on Drake, steady.
Drake exhaled. "Because I was afraid it would get worse."
Azael nodded once. "There it is."
"That's not wrong," Drake said.
"No," Azael agreed. "It's early."
Drake felt the word hit him again, sharp as before.
"So what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Stand there until something breaks?"
Azael turned and resumed walking. "No."
He didn't look back.
"You stand there," he said, "until you're certain the moment can't end without you."
Xander jogged a step to catch up. "Cool. Love a rule I can't use."
Azael cut him off without slowing. "You don't have one."
Xander stopped short. "…Rude."
They moved on.
Drake stayed silent, jaw tight, replaying the half-step in his mind—not the action, but the timing.