“That’s how weak power works,” he says.
That lands.
Hard.
I study him for a moment, then nod once.
“Alright,” I say quietly.
Silence settles again, but this time it feels different, less like something unresolved and more like something… aligned.
“The clan,” I say after a moment.
His expression shifts slightly, not tense, but focused.
“They’re coming,” he says.
“Yes,” I reply.
“And you’re going to stand with me,” he adds.
I hold his gaze.
“No,” I say.
That stops him.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
“I’m not standing with you,” I continue. “I’m standing beside you.”
The distinction hangs there.
Clear.
Intentional.
He studies me, and for a second, I can see the instinct in him, the part that wants to frame that differently, adjust it, control it?—
And then it passes.
“Beside me,” he says.
“Yes.”
He nods once.
“Alright,” he says.
I let out a slow breath, something inside me settling into place with that, something that had been shifting for longer than I realized.
“I’m not who I was when I came here,” I say.
“No,” he agrees.
“I’m not trying to get back to that,” I add.
