Raizen's shoulders tightened before he could calm down.
Atman saw it. Of course he did.
His smile shifted, sharper now.
"I know that look" he said softly. "I have seen it on very few faces. People who have either broken in there… Or broken out."
Raizen held his gaze.
His neck still ached where the ghost-Nyx hand had held him.
"You talk like you know the place" Raizen said.
Atman chuckled quietly.
"There was no padding when we built it" he replied. "No colored walls. No monitors. Rust was real. Metal, blood, sweat. If you fell, no one helped you. If you didn't stand back up anymore, nobody cared."
Raizen's fingers curled against his thigh.
"We?" he asked.
Atman tilted his head.
"Your father, Takeshi, for one" he said. "Mona for another. And myself. We took different roles. Takeshi hammered everything in place. Mona calibrated the numbers, watched for any imperfections. I designed the patterns. The drills. The kill zones."
There was something almost fond in his tone.
