He let the cold soak in, numbing the edge of the wounds he'd stopped counting. He flexed the hand that had almost broken Rehn's jaw, then imagined instead the feel of the blade at Lethren's throat, the brief, perfect resistance before the world rebalanced around the new reality.
He heard footsteps behind him, but didn't turn.
Lethren's voice was softer now, maybe with effort, maybe with calculation. "You played your part well," she said. "You'll get promoted for it."
Soren watched the city, not her. "I should thank you for the lesson?"
She stepped closer, boots silent even on the gravel roof. "The lesson is this: nobody will ever remember how you survived. Only that you did."
He turned, just enough to catch her eyes, black as ever, but now rimmed in something less certain. "I don't care what they remember. I care what you do next."
She smiled, thin and tired. "Next time, you'll be the one running the test."
