“When,” he asks.
I tilt my head slightly.
“Between decisions,” I reply.
That earns a faint shift in his expression, something that almost reads as disbelief, but not quite.
“You built a command network, destabilized Combine influence, rewrote doctrine, and found time to do this,” he says.
I shrug one shoulder slightly.
“I needed somewhere to put the parts of me that weren’t strategy,” I answer.
He steps closer to one of the pieces, his hand lifting slightly like he might touch it, then stopping just short, respecting it without being told to.
“This isn’t separate from that,” he says.
“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”
He glances back at me.
“It’s the same skill set,” he adds.
I smile faintly.
“Just applied differently,” I say.
He studies me for a moment longer, then nods once, like something just clicked into place.
“That makes sense,” he says.
I let the silence stretch after that, not empty, just… comfortable, which is still new enough that I notice it every time it happens.
“I used to think this was who I was before everything changed,” I say finally, my voice quieter now, more reflective as I push off the table and walk slowly toward another piece, running my fingers lightly along its edge. “Like I had to get back to it to feel like myself again.”
“And now?” he asks.
I glance at him over my shoulder.
“Now I think this is just another part of what I became,” I reply.
He watches me carefully.
“You’re not separating it anymore,” he says.
“No,” I answer. “I don’t need to.”
That lands in the room differently than anything else so far, not heavy, not tense, but… resolved.
“You’re building something,” he says.
I turn back to him fully.
“So are you,” I reply.
He exhales something softer this time, less guarded.
“Yes.”
