The smoke had yet to clear, and the embers were still warm.
In a corner of Onigashima's ruins, King sat against the cold bars of a makeshift cage hastily built from torn sails and timber. His mask had shattered, revealing a pale, handsome face etched with exhaustion and indifference. Seastone chains pierced the joints at the roots of his black wings and bound them tightly. Every slight movement brought bone-deep pain and the utter suppression of his abilities. His wounds had only been hastily bandaged, and blood had soaked through the dressings.
He listened to the cheers and sobbing rising and falling in the distance-the victors celebrating, the defeated wailing. Sunlight slipped through gaps in the canvas, cutting bright shafts that fell beside his feet, dust dancing within them. This sunlight should have been the warmth his people longed for, yet now it brought him only pain and irony.
Footsteps approached from a distance and stopped outside the cage.
King raised his eyes to the visitor. It was Lin Yan. He had changed into relatively clean clothes. His face was still pale and his breathing unsteady, but his eyes were clear. He carried a wooden tray holding water, food, and a small jar of ointment.
"Not going to kill me?" King's voice was hoarse and dry, carrying its usual chill.
"I have no plans to, for now." Lin Yan slid the tray between the bars. "You've lost too much blood. You need water and food. The ointment might have limited effect on a Lunarian's constitution, but it should ease the pain a little."
King glanced at the tray without moving. "Charity? Or softening me up before an interrogation?"
"Neither." Lin Yan found a relatively flat stone outside the cage and sat down, regarding King calmly. "I want to talk to