The strategy floor was still.
The city lights bled through the glass, casting long, sharp shadows across the concrete. Nox was standing at the window, his silhouette dark against the glowing grid of the skyline.
Lucien stepped into the room without knocking. "You're staring again."
"I'm not."
"You definitely are." Lucien walked over, his jacket slung loosely over one shoulder. "You have this look," he added, his tone casual but focused. "Like you're trying to measure outcomes we haven't even reached yet."
Nox didn't say anything.
Lucien leaned against the glass beside him, looking out at the same view. "You know more than you're letting on, don't you?"
It wasn't an accusation. It was just a quiet observation. Nox kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "I know enough."
Lucien studied him for a long moment. "I still have those dreams sometimes," he admitted.
That made Nox turn. Lucien's expression wasn't dramatic or pained—it was just honest.
"I'm standing somewhere high," Lucien said, his voice low. "People are looking at me. Something is collapsing. There's this... weight. Like I messed it up."
The silence stretched between them. Nox's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "I told you didn't."
Lucien's mouth curved into a faint, skeptical smile. "You say that with a lot of confidence."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Nox met his eyes, his gaze steady and absolute. "Because you don't lead carelessly. You never have."
Lucien held that gaze for a heartbeat, searching for the source of that certainty. Finally, he looked back out at the city. "It still feels like we fell."
The words landed softly, more like a confession than a complaint.
Nox's voice dropped an octave. "Then we don't fall this time."
Lucien glanced back at him, his eyes sharpening. "See."
"What?"
"That."
"What?"
"You talk like there's a 'this time.'"
There was no judgment in Lucien's voice, only a quiet, burning curiosity. Nox didn't have an answer—at least, not one he could give.
Lucien watched him for another second, then bumped Nox's shoulder lightly with his own. "Whatever you're carrying," he said gently, "you don't have to do it by yourself. That's the whole point of a covenant, isn't it?"
A small pause followed.
"And if I'm supposed to be the one leading in those fragments of yours?" Lucien smirked faintly. "Then let me do my job. Stop trying to do it for me."
Nox's expression shifted, the corner of his mouth twitching toward a smile. "You're terrible at delegating."
"I'm excellent at delegating."
"You really aren't."
Lucien laughed softly, the tension in the room finally breaking. "There. That's better."
"What is?"
"You arguing with me."
Nox shook his head, though the weight in his chest felt a fraction lighter. Lucien started toward the stairs, gesturing over his shoulder. "Come upstairs."
"For what?"
"Midnight snacks. Mira ordered way too much food again."
"That's unnecessary."
"It's extremely necessary for morale," Lucien countered. He paused at the doorway, looking back one last time. "And stop looking like we've already lost, Nox."
Nox held his gaze, the reflection of the city shimmering in the glass behind him. He nodded once. "...We haven't."
Lucien smiled. "Good."
And this time, when Nox followed him toward the sound of the others laughing upstairs, it didn't feel like he was walking into the future alone.