The bone chip stayed on the glass and held the unfinished name down.
The case body pressed from the other side, palm flat against the panel, trying to push the chip off without touching it directly. The mark beneath it had dulled. Yun-Jin's wrist still bled under the pale strand, but the pull through her name had lost its edge.
Blue kept one hand on Daemon's fuse and studied the receiver mouth.
"The bone is heavier than the name right now," she said. "That does not mean the receiver understands mercy."
"Nobody here was preparing a mercy speech today," JJ said.
Ty held his broken fingertip away from the glass. The chip had come from him, and the receiver knew it. He could feel that knowledge as pressure, not thought, running from the mouth to the case and back through the shared line.
The face behind the glass watched his hand.
The face behind the glass belonged to the body, not him.
The phrase still sat in the room with weight.
