Seraphine did not speak for a while.
She stood over her notes with the borrowed skill still open. Her eyes moved the way a surgeon's eyes moved when the body was on the table and hesitation meant death.
Her pen scratched, paused, then scratched again. Small adjustments. Renaming. Reordering.
Lucien waited without rushing her.
Cassian waited too, quiet as a man who understood that the most violent battles happened in silence.
When Seraphine finally set her pen down, she exhaled through her nose like she had just wrestled a stubborn organ back into place.
Seeing that the moment had come, Lucien acted.
He raised a hand.
Space folded.
A compact chamber appeared beside them.
Cryogenic Chamber.
Cassian's eyes sharpened.
Seraphine's pupils widened.
Inside the chamber lay the Mirrorhorn Duants.
They looked nothing like the Eternals that had once fought them.
