Tancred returned to Abyss after midnight.
He did not take the train.
He crossed half the distance on foot, then cut through abandoned transit tunnels, then vaulted the perimeter wall without slowing.
Security systems tracked him.
They did not challenge him.
He entered through a maintenance gate and walked straight toward the central district, boots leaving faint streaks of dried blood on the pavement.
The public levels were quiet.
Streetlights glowed softly.
Night-shift crews cleaned debris from the day. A pair of teenagers sat on a bench sharing earphones, unaware that one of the most dangerous men alive had just passed them.
Tancred ignored it all.
He headed underground.
The restricted elevator recognized him instantly.
No scan.
No pause.
Just descent.
Down past public access.
Past logistics.
Past infrastructure.
Into the core.
Xior was awake.
He usually was.
He stood in the central operations chamber, sleeves rolled up, studying layered projections of trade flows and energy grids.
He did not turn when Tancred entered.
“You shut down a government building,” Xior said calmly.
“Yes.”
“And threatened a high-ranking official.”
“Yes.”
Xior nodded slightly.
“Efficient.”
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Tancred scowled. “That’s it?”
Xior finally looked at him.
“You did not kill anyone,” he said. “Which means you were controlling yourself.”
Tancred looked away.
“Barely.”
They sat.
Not across a desk.
Side by side at the main console.
Like they always did.
Xior poured two cups of tea.
Tancred took his without comment.
It tasted terrible.
He drank it anyway.
“She’s breaking,” Tancred said suddenly.
Xior did not pretend to misunderstand.
“Yes.”
“They’re using her.”
“Yes.”
“They’re burning her out.”
“Yes.”
Silence followed.
Tancred slammed his cup down.
“Then why aren’t you stopping it?”
Xior looked at him.
“Because she has not asked,” he replied.
Tancred stared.
“That’s it?”
“No,” Xior said. “It is everything.”
Tancred stood and began pacing.
“They’re turning her into a shield,” he said. “Into a symbol. Into a sacrifice.”
“That is what societies do with strength,” Xior replied. “They metabolize it.”
Tancred stopped.
“You sound like you approve.”
“I sound like I understand,” Xior corrected.
“That’s worse.”
Xior regarded him quietly.
“Do you want me to intervene?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Openly?”
“Yes.”
“Then she becomes mine,” Xior said. “Publicly. Politically. Structurally.”
Tancred froze.
“She won’t want that.”
“No,” Xior agreed.
“And you won’t forgive me.”
Tancred’s fists clenched.
“Then what do we do?” he demanded.
Xior folded his hands.
“We wait,” he said.
“For what?”
“For her to choose.”
Tancred laughed bitterly.
“By then there will be nothing left.”
Xior’s voice softened.
“There will be,” he said. “Because you are there.”
Tancred looked up sharply.
“I can’t fix this.”
“No,” Xior said. “You can make it survivable.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It is everything.”
They were silent for a while.
Systems hummed.
Data flowed.
The city breathed.
“Iria would hate this,” Tancred said quietly.
Xior’s gaze sharpened.
“You rarely say her name.”
Tancred swallowed.
“She trusted systems,” he said. “Look where that got her.”
Xior nodded slowly.
“That is why I do not,” he replied.
Tancred turned.
“If Elira gets hurt,” he said, “I will burn everything.”
“I know.”
“You won’t stop me.”
“I will not try,” Xior said.
Tancred blinked.
“You won’t?”
“No,” Xior replied. “I will redirect you.”
Tancred frowned.
“To where?”
“To the cause,” Xior said. “Not the symptom.”
Tancred considered that.
“Still violent.”
“Always,” Xior agreed.
“William is drowning,” Tancred said after a moment.
“Yes.”
“And you’re letting him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because saving him would mean owning him,” Xior replied. “He would not survive that.”
Tancred exhaled.
“You’re cold.”
Xior met his gaze.
“No,” he said. “I’m restrained.”
Tancred leaned back in his chair.
“When did this become like this?” he asked.
Xior thought.
“When we stopped believing collapse was temporary,” he replied.
Tancred closed his eyes.
“I miss when it was simple.”
“It never was,” Xior said gently. “We were just younger.”
They sat in silence.
Two men carrying too much.
Holding the line in different ways.
“Promise me something,” Tancred said finally.
Xior looked at him.
“If she asks,” Tancred continued, “you’ll take her in.”
Xior nodded once.
“Yes.”
“And you won’t turn her into a weapon.”
“No,” Xior said. “I’ll turn her into a citizen.”
Tancred smiled faintly.
“Good.”
He stood.
“I’m staying near her.”
“Expected.”
“And if William crosses the line again”
“I’ll handle it,” Xior said.
Tancred paused.
“You will?”
“Yes.”
Tancred studied him.
“Thank you.”
Xior returned to his screens.
“Try not to collapse any more government buildings,” he said dryly.
“No promises,” Tancred replied.
And left.
