Veric had already passed Rhayne when I called his name.
He doesn't stop.
He keeps walking toward the Goddess with Undertow tucked under the arm he has left, still adjusting every step to the weight missing from one side of his body. The empty sleeve moves against his waist, and that alone tells me I should stop what's about to happen.
"Veric—"
"I know what to do. Don't get in my way."
The voice comes out low and heavy, with no room for argument.
I stop.
Maybe pushing him right now would only make him close his ears further. Veric just watched two people hand over real pieces of their own lives and receive exactly what they came for. To someone who lost an arm a few minutes ago, that statue must look less like a ritual and more like the first door that has opened since the laser went through Undertow.
