The dark corridor closed itself behind Helios like a thread pulled from a seam, and the silence of his room settled back into place—muted light across the ceiling beams, a faint draft nudging the curtains, the kind of quiet that made sleep feel heavier than iron. He rubbed the heel of his hand under one eye, stifled a yawn, and was halfway to toeing his boots off when a knock rattled the door. Then another. Then five in nervous succession.
"Helios?" Skuld's voice—tight, hopeful, a little breathless. "Helios, are you in there?"
"Alright, alright, hold on, I'm coming," he muttered under his breath as he padded to the door. He pulled it open with a lazy swing.
Skuld stood in the hall clutching the hem of her coat, hair askew from pacing. Relief crashed over her face the instant she saw him; it softened the worry-lines he hadn't realized had dug in since yesterday.
"Hey," he said, voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong? Need something?"
"I thought you left," she blurted. "You weren't answering—I knocked, and—" She stopped herself and flushed, trying to smooth her expression back into something calm. "I just… wanted to make sure."
He let a small smile tilt his mouth. "I was very, very sleepy." He lifted a hand and tapped his temple. "Out cold. But listen—" His voice softened as he said it, not because he felt softer but because she needed him to be. "I promised I would never leave you behind. I keep my promises. So relax, okay?"
Skuld's shoulders eased. She nodded once, hard, and the guilt in her smile looked like she was apologizing for caring. "Okay. Sorry. I just—never mind."
He stepped past her into the hallway and pulled the door closed. "Come on. Breakfast should be ready. Let's hurry before the others finish all the food or Zack decides heroes don't need food."
That earned a little laugh. She fell into step, letting her arm brush his just enough to feel real. They crossed the hallway, descended the wide stairs. The mansion held long halls and sunlit courtyards, making space for a small warband that was not quite a family. As they walked, Skuld relaxed.
It was a pleasant walk; many sights and sounds crossed their path. The way the garden smelled this morning after the night's light rain, how the mosaic along the stairs had a chipped corner shaped exactly like a key tooth, the sound of Zack laughing somewhere far off like a bell dropped down a well.
They reached the dining room. Trays of fruit and loaves and steaming bowls had been set out along the long table. Kurai, Sephiroth, and Thalen already sat there. Kurai ate with the same efficient stillness she brought to battle, eyes half-lidded, posture a warning blade. Sephiroth was exactly himself—perfectly straight-backed, attention turned outward and inward at once, a glass of water in his hand. Thalen hunched over his bowl, the hooded cloak draped around him as if it were the only thing gravity couldn't quite catch.
The seats opposite were empty. Outside, from the direction of the eastern yard, came the distant thud of feet and the bright clash of steel—Zack's voice booming encouragement, Cloud's dry retorts hitching on breath. A sharper crack—Tempest's spear snapping the air. Helga's grunts as she pushed herself. Training had started early.
"Where are they?" Helios asked, even though he already knew.
Kurai didn't bother looking up. She lifted her chin toward the window. "Outside. Training."
"Mm." He and Skuld slid into the seats across from Thalen. Skuld reached for a basket of bread; Helios picked up a knife and cut an orange into quarters. The rind sprayed a sparkle of oil into the light and the brightness of it startled him—after the sickly glow of Radiant Garden, the honest sun of Olympus looked indecently cheerful.
"Morning," Skuld said to the table at large, pouring water for Thalen before her own.
"Morning," Thalen said, voice husky, words snagging as if they had to climb a hill to reach his mouth. "Hel—Helios. Skuld."
"Eat," Kurai said, still not looking up. "Knowing our luck you'll both need it."
Helios smirked. "You make it sound ominous."
"Every word out of her mouth is always ominous," Sephiroth said without inflection, and lifted his glass.
Skuld set a bowl in front of Helios like it mattered, and he let her. "Did you get enough sleep?" she said softly, almost chiding but not quite.
He shrugged, spooning porridge. "I think so."
On the surface, it was an ordinary meal. Spoons scraped ceramic; a bee nosed at the open window and then thought better of it; the bread was warm enough to steam when Skuld tore it. She tapped Thalen's bowl with the side of her spoon, and he looked up, obedient in that way he had when she asked anything of him. "Tell Helios about the new drill," she said. "You were excited about it yesterday."
Thalen's eyes, which so often seemed to be the last thing to move when the rest of him decided to, sparked faintly. He nodded. "Zack—Zack s-s-says… we, um—" The sentence tore itself on the hook of the next syllable and hung there, trembling. Thalen's fingers tightened on the spoon. The cloak at his shoulders fluttered as if wind had found it.
Skuld didn't rush him. "Zack says…?"
Thalen drew in a breath, let it out slow. "Zack says… we don't f-fight… for long. L-lots of small… wins." He smiled, quick and shy, like the expression had been startled onto his mouth. "He calls it… uh… Captain Eager's C-c-c—" He closed his eyes, frustrated. The word would not come.
"Captain Eager's Circuits," Helios supplied lightly, as if he weren't watching the way Thalen's edges fuzzed when language failed. "I can hear him naming it as he runs laps."
Thalen barked a soft laugh. "Yes. Circuits." The next part came easier, momentum catching: "Short bursts. D-Don't… hold power too long. You… fade, or… lose shape."
Skuld beamed at him like he'd told the best story. "Exactly. It suits you. You're quick."
He ducked his head. "Sometimes."