"Why, Zahariel?"
Lion El'Jonson's voice came through the Bridge's communicator, low and steady, yet carrying the stillness that lay over molten lava.
His face appeared on the Tactical Terminal's glowing display, his gray-green eyes fixed on the screen as though he meant to drag that traitorous figure out of it, pin him down, and demand an explanation.
His fingers did not touch his sword hilt. His hand merely hung at his side, fingertips curling slightly as Lion El'Jonson fought to restrain his impulse.
Zahariel remained silent on the other end of the screen.
The image trembled slightly, the Bridge lights casting shifting shadows across his face.
Lion El'Jonson could see the bulkhead behind Zahariel shaking as a Macro-cannon shell struck the Blade Storm's armor.
The traitors' flagship endured blow after blow, its flickering shields leaving faint ripples at the edges of the image.
Yet Zahariel stood steady, as though he felt none of those tremors. Only when a muffled explosion came through the communicator did his pupils shift slightly.
"Why?" Lion El'Jonson repeated. His voice still did not rise, but its calm tone held a pressure more dangerous than a roar.
His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, as though he were forcing down suspicions he refused to voice.
"You betrayed me. You betrayed Luther and me, Lion El'Jonson," Zahariel finally said.
His voice was far colder than Lion El'Jonson remembered. He stared at Lion El'Jonson without evasion or defiance, only the composure of someone who had already settled every answer.
"You were the one who betrayed Luther and me."
Lion El'Jonson's brow lowered slightly.
"You and Luther?" he repeated Zahariel's words.
His voice paused for a moment, and at last shock rose from the depths of his eyes, like a dark current churning beneath ice. The surface had not cracked, but