He truly only wanted to talk to the two of them, even if it was only for a few minutes. Even if it ultimately changed nothing, he at least wanted to convey their feelings to one another.
So, when Michel saw the two of them actually step down from the machines that had landed on the ground, he felt happy deep down, though he said nothing. Although he still wore that same unruly expression, he did not stop Nicol's almost naïve gesture.
Because no matter what Yzak and Dearka thought in their hearts, they had at least answered this call. They had been willing to step out from behind that thick armor and, like him, stand on the side of dialogue and face each other as human beings.
That alone was a miracle.
Four people, four former comrades, now belonging to two opposing camps, met on this silent land.
So────
Nicol had just taken a step forward, about to smile.
Yet the silver-haired youth opposite him reacted violently, as though he had been scalded.
"I'm not naïve enough to believe an enemy would lay down his weapon!"
Yzak's voice rang out, filled with intensely suppressed fury.
He strode forward and swiftly raised the pistol in his hand, its dark muzzle aimed directly at Nicol's brow.
His sharp eyes were bloodshot, filled not only with anger but also with the pain of being torn apart by some emotion.
But Nicol did not waver in the slightest. He did not even stop walking.
He continued to look at Yzak gently, as though he were looking at a friend who was sulking.
After all, Nicol knew very well that if Yzak truly wanted to kill him, or truly considered him an enemy who had to be eliminated, there would have been no need