Around Lucien, mana still streamed inward like invisible rain.
Anvil-Horn was the first to open his eyes.
The Solhorn's pupils focused, then steadied. He said nothing at first.
Lucien met his gaze.
"Uncle," Lucien said quietly, "I will leave for a while. But I do not trust the silence after a calamity. Another attack might come for Starforge. Will you come with me? All of you."
Anvil-Horn paused. The muscles along his jaw tightened as he looked past Lucien, through shattered streets, toward the ruins that still smelled like hot metal and grief.
Then he looked back.
"Is it like earlier?" Anvil-Horn asked. "When my people vanished and returned as if the world blinked?"
Lucien answered without offering too much.
"Yes," he said. "My domain is… unusual."
That was enough.
Anvil-Horn's hesitation broke cleanly.
"Good," he said. "That is best. Even my horn agrees. Gahahaha."
He laughed, loud and booming, but the truth sat behind it.
