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Mentions/Interactions: Ezekiel [@helo]

She was silent at first.

And then…she laughed.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t joyful. It was cold. Brittle. The kind of sound that didn’t belong in a place so quiet. The kind of laugh you might hear from someone standing on the edge of a rooftop, staring down into something they couldn’t climb out of.

[color=firebrick]“Of course,”[/color] she said quietly between fading chuckles, voice trembling at the edges. [color=firebrick]“Of course.”[/color]

Her gaze didn’t meet his. Not yet. She just stood there for a moment, breathing in silence. Her shoulders didn’t shake, but her hand rose...slowly, subtly...to wipe at the corner of her eye. And when she turned to look at him again…

There were tears. Not many. Just a few. Just enough to matter. Her eyes shimmered with unshed grief, glassy and golden in the dim light of the corridor. She turned toward the nearby wall...plain steel and wood, curved slightly with the hull...and lifted a hand.

Her index finger glowed faintly as she whispered something low and melodic. Arcane syllables, elegant and old. She pressed that glowing finger to the surface and began to trace, slowly, carefully, until a tall, thin rectangle formed...six feet high, etched like a door in gold light. The moment the shape was complete, the lines flared...and a glowing portal opened soundlessly, casting warm illumination across the corridor.

The air changed. Magic...real magic...swirled around her in delicate threads.

She turned back toward Ezekiel.

Her hood fell back as she did, revealing the full measure of her beauty. And it was beauty in the way a tragic statue was beautiful...flawless, cold, and carved to hold sorrow forever. Another tear streaked down her cheek, catching the gold light of the portal like a falling star.

And then, with all the gravity of a prayer, she spoke.

[color=firebrick]“Please…”[/color] Her voice cracked, just once.

[color=firebrick]“Don’t let them die.”[/color]

She didn’t move. Didn’t reach for him. Just stood there between the glowing door and the only man on the ship who might save lives… or walk away.

And in that moment, in all of perfected stoicism, all she was…was just a girl, breaking.[/color]