Tock stayed in the air after Randalp fell.
For three slow pulses, the Ikona kept trying to build a body around what was left. Plates dragged across the stone, slid under a shoulder, hooked against a torn section of uniform, and pulled without enough strength to matter. The motion was not intelligent in the human way, but Elias still felt the refusal in it.
Then the core dimmed.
The plates folded inward and returned to the shard buried near Randalp's chest. The shard slipped free on its own and rolled through ash, blood, and broken stone until it stopped against Vincent's boot.
Vincent stared down at it.
He had not stood yet. One knee stayed on the ground. One hand pressed into the floor, fingers spread as if he did not trust the arena to stay solid beneath him. The white fox had vanished back into his second shard, leaving only a pale thread of light under the skin near his ribs.
Randalp's body twitched once.
Vincent flinched at that.
