Like darkness staring at a shadow and convincing itself it alone understood what it meant to be endless and absolute, far above — far, far above the countless floors where Lucienne stood watching Phei disappear into the waiting Rolls-Royce — Yuzuki watched Lucienne in return.
With the stillness of something born to hunt.
The winds around her screamed without pause, cold and razor-thin violent enough to strip ordinary flesh open in seconds to peel skin from muscle and muscle from bone and scatter whatever remained into the upper atmosphere like crimson confetti at a funeral nobody had the decency to cancel.
