The sand in the pit was dead.
Vane didn't look back. He walked toward the steel exit, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze drifting toward a loose bolt on the high wall. Behind him, Kaelo remained on one knee. The Lieutenant's right arm hung like a broken branch. The fabric of his officer's uniform was charred where the powder had touched him.
Kaelo looked at his hand. The veins were stagnant. Cold.
He tried to summon a Spark. There was nothing. Just a hollow ache where his power used to live.
Several students gathered in the stands remained frozen. They had come to see the anomaly. They found a burial.
Vesper dropped from the high platform. She fell, golden armor cutting the air, landing five feet from Kaelo. The concrete cracked under her weight. Her eyes were locked on Vane.
Kaeya stood at the edge of the pit, her arms crossed. She watched her brother struggle for breath. She didn't move to help him. She didn't offer a hand. Her gaze was clinical, tracing the path of the decay crawling up Kaelo's sleeve.
"Stop," Vesper said.
Vane kept walking.
"I said stop, Vane Obsidian."
Vesper blurred. A streak of radiant light. She appeared before the exit, her golden claymore leveled at Vane's throat. The air screamed with friction.
Vane stopped. He didn't raise his hands. He didn't tense his muscles. He looked at the blade with the mild, detached interest of someone checking the time.
"Excuse me, General," Vane said. His voice was a flat, bored hum.
"You crippled a High Lieutenant," Vesper hissed. Her grip was white. Her pulse was a drum. "You don't walk away without an answer."
"I have no reason to fight you, General," Vane said softly. He didn't look at her eyes, he looked at the pommel of her sword. "I am a pacifist. I wouldn't dare raise a hand to anyone. It's a lot of work for very little gain. I just wanted the noise to stop."
"A pacifist?" Vesper's voice cracked. She looked at Kaelo, then back at the boy who looked like he was daydreaming. "You just erased a man's soul."
"I didn't really do anything," Vane replied. He shifted his weight, looking past her toward the exit. "He was being very loud. I only asked for silence. If his arm went cold, that's just how the air reacted. It wasn't personal."
General Varick landed behind her. His visor flickered with red error code. "His signature is gone," Varick said. His voice was frayed. "He's standing there, and the sensors say the room is empty. Vesper, move."
"No," she whispered.
Up close, the air wasn't just cold. It was hungry. Her spark, the pride of the tungsten lord, was flickering. Drained by a vacuum she couldn't see.
Vane stepped forward.
He didn't push. He didn't strike. He simply walked into the space the blade occupied, his expression neutral.
Vesper's sword touched his neck. It didn't cut. The metal vibrated, a high whine that set the teeth of every student in the stands on edge. The gold began to flake, turning into black dust that drifted to the sand like soot.
"Your weapon looks expensive," Vane said, his voice completely devoid of malice. "If you're done, I'd like to go back to the library. Or get something to eat. I'm hungry."
Vesper flinched. She pulled the weapon back, staring at the pitted, blackened edge of the Divine Steel. Fear pierced her, sharp and cold. But beneath it was a sickening devotion. She saw the end of the world in his eyes, and he didn't even seem to care that she was watching.
Vane walked past.
He stepped out of the pit and entered the hallway. The training grounds felt smaller as he left them behind.
Nora was waiting for him near the entrance, having scrambled down from the stands. She looked like she had seen a ghost. Her hands were shaking.
"Vane," she whispered.
"Let's go, Nora," he said, his voice steady and calm.
"They're going to kill us. The Generals. You just..."
"They won't," Vane said, not breaking his stride as they navigated the sterile hallways. "They're too busy wondering why I'm not running. Come on. I think i'm hungry i don't really know"