Alice stood where she was and let them look at her, and James did not reach for the interface.
That was all it took. There was no test in it and nothing was decided. He had said she stayed out, and so she stayed out, and the moment passed the way ordinary moments do.
Nobody else moved much either.
James let the last of the manifestation go. The wing frames crumbled off his back into ash, the cracked ring thinning out above his shoulders and going dark. He kept the scythe in his hand, because putting it away would have required a decision and he did not have one available.
Ronan was sitting in the mud with what was left of his shield across his knees, both arms down.
Finn had his hands on his thighs and was breathing through his mouth in a slow careful rhythm around whatever was open in his side.
Maeve was still moving between people, still putting light on things, doing it on instinct now rather than judgement, because stopping had not occurred to her yet.
