The Varkos hissed softly as it rolled to a clean stop near the pit's edge. Vivienne cut the engine, and for a moment the silence returned—thick, humming with residual heat and mana-vapor. She stepped out without a word.
Damien moved to the driver's side immediately.
No hesitation.
He didn't walk.
He approached.
There was no smirk this time, no quip riding on his breath. Just focus—sharp, settled, silent. He slid into the seat like it belonged to him, hands already adjusting the wheel, feet testing the pedal pressure. Muscle memory from earlier fused with something new.
Observation restructured into action.
Vivienne leaned against the pit rail, arms crossed, eyes unreadable as she watched him.
He started the engine.
Not too much throttle. Just enough.
The Varkos came to life—not roaring, not stumbling. Just ready.
