The further she ventured from established access points, the more chaotic and dilapidated the network seemed to get, but Lyntael pressed onward and kept her eyes towards the more incongruent patches of unexpected terrain scattered along the coastal path. A word of warning from Rogan came just barely ahead of her own ears picking up the sound of something violent taking place not far off, and as she glanced in the direction of the sound it was answered by the emergence of a large and exceptionally dangerous-looking viral entity. She felt like she recognised elements of others she'd seen before but some parts, at least, were wholly alien to her.

Her steps quickened, darting across the soft grass, but the larger leading virus had clearly seen her and its first reaction was a salvo of firepower; Lyntael skidded to a halt, falling into a ready stance without thinking as she glanced at the encircling addition of other viruses on each side. There was a little cover, but in the brief moment before she would need to react more decisively Lyntael looked around at each of the new arrivals, her heart rate climbing to an active pace as the beginnings of a swelling charge thrummed in her chest. Around her, the soft breeze drew in to a tighter spiral, forming a whirling buffet, and she was briefly put off by how dull it felt, with the tight new suit covering most of her skin. She banished the thought for now.

“Alright... I see you.” She raised her voice enough to carry; her focus had to remain on the larger virus – she'd already seen what it could do – but she spared quick side glances for the others. “I'd rather not fight. I don't intent to hurt any of you, if you don't try to hurt me first. If any of you are willing to leave in peace now, you can.” There was a small part of her that was pleased at how level and calm her voice sounded, in the face of the clearly dangerous and violent virus leading this pack. She didn't have much hope than any of them would listen, but trying still mattered... and if the big one was as destructive as it seemed, then a fight now would be to the safety of others in the future.

The thought took only a moment to pass through her mind, before the reaction from the lead virus made her throw herself quickly to the side, spinning to seek temporary cover from the sturdiest-looking pillar as instinct and reaction drew the humming shell of her barrier out across her body, humming with a yellow glow for a moment before fading from sight. The virus itself looked military, if she had to guess... but clearly not controlled. If she could shut it down swiftly, the others might abandon their own violence too, with any luck.

With her back to the pillar for a moment, Lyntael closed her eyes long enough to take a deep breath. Across her body she could feel the aches of her past exertions still, as some of the lingering aches and pains from the day's strains. Self-exploration and understanding aside, she was already tired and no amount of enlightenment magically made that go away. Her charge hummed and pulsed in her chest, beating as it rose to match her heart rate and Lyntael let the breath out. Focus. She squared her shoulders and prepared to dart out from her cover and strike back.

Summary

L*) Turbulence (Auto-deflect on shot or lobbed attack)
L*) Gust (Knock Back effects are Double Strength, and attacks with them gain Wind type)
L*) First Armour: 20Hp Casing (Lets see how this new suit holds up ^.^)
L1) My Heart Falters, yet beats anew: Buster Charge, 80Hp Elec Barrier, Off-Target (1 Rank, 1 Round), 3CD (Overcharge -3)
L2) Dodge (Take cover behind Metal pillar)
L3) A Loving Heart, and a second chance: SupportBase(20) x4 Instances, 15Hp Sacrifice, 2CD (Overcharge -1 per instance effectively used)
L*) Fast Armour: 20Hp Casing Refresh

-=Turn Splice at 3 Actions, 3 Actions Remaining=-


Cooldowns and Overcharge

My Heart Falters, yet beats anew (3TCD)
A Loving Heart, and a second chance (2TCD)

Overcharge: Begin: +0, My Heart falters (-3) , A Loving Heart (-4), End: +0

The soft laughter faded but the sense of joy, and relief, remained as Lyntael turned to face the way she had been hiking. It was only a moment before Rogan answered, but his question left her thoughtful. What did she mean to do now? Finding the words to describe it took consideration and she spoke slowly. Whatever else had happened in those broken moments, everything that mattered was here, now... and everything that she was, here and now, mattered. She could feel the last of her reservations dissolving as Rogan relayed directions to her and she started off again towards the apparent source of the viral overpopulation. Compared to everything else, taking care of this duty ought to be easy.

((Ready for Battle 12))

It was only a few minutes before another courier arrived, glancing around near the cafe's front before Rogan caught his eye and raised a hand. The interaction only took a moment and the updates and adjustments only a scant few moment more; he had become adept at the process by now, though he had to admit it was only a small achievement considering how normal the practice was for the majority of people. By the time he was finished, however, Lyntael appeared to have made her way past her most recent encounter and was taking a break at the edge of the cliff she was hiking along. For a moment, Rogan moved to speak up, but something made him pause.

She had her eyes closed, but a serious, focused expression creased her features and he could see small flashes of light darting across her skin every now and then. A glance at her metrics showed nothing strange or unusual, save for a distinct fuzziness and confusion of the graph that usually represented her emotional state; it was only ever an approximation at the best of times, translated from her other bio-metric data, but now it was nearly incomprehensible.

It was a few moments more before the girl lifted her head and seemed to relax, but as she stood, Rogan could see tears streaming down her cheeks. He opened his mouth but she spoke first, softly, but with a smile that stilled the worried question on his tongue. Then her smile became a laugh, and a giggle, and Rogan felt something in him relax that felt like it had been tense for... a very long time. He nodded, looking for the right response, and settled for the simplest one.

“Well then, Lyntael... What do you want to do?”
“I don't know... I know what was wrong still, I understand... and I... I'm alright. I'm good. Better. I think... I think I feel like... I'm everything I want to be.” He watched her pause, turning to look out at the sea, then the sky, then away towards the direction they had been heading.

“I think I'm ready to actually find and take care of this viral threat now. I want to see this through, now that I'm here.” As the girl looked forward, Rogan took a sip from his lemonade and consulted the details Eurayle had given them. It was still a fair amount of network distance, for a navigator travelling off established transitways at least, but it wasn't as though they hadn't set this time aside specifically for the work; they could keep going at least until later in the afternoon. He relayed fresh directions and watched his navi press onward.

Lyntael watched the group begin to move away, a thoughtful expression working its way across her features. Her stance relaxed again and she shifted to stand straight while the motion led to her hands unconsciously sliding over her hips in a far more emphatic way than was really necessary.

Barely aware of the way she let her hips sway slightly with the pressure, Lyntael frowned, then shook her head and turned to move on as well, continuing in the direction she had been heading before. Rogan's comments about the way the weather behaved around her continued to linger in the back of her thoughts, and jumped forward again now as she strolled along the top of the cliffs, glancing out towards the sea every so often.

Clouds drifted by overhead in grey clumps, moving quickly in response to the quicker winds, higher up, but... for a moment Lyntael closed her eyes again, reaching her senses outwards... but no sign of actual storms or rain. These nets weren't as well maintained as the surface level public networks, pushed down and largely forgotten underneath the newest and safest public net layer – here the beach wasn't always sunny and bright, or the weather fair... but she had to admit that the Rogue beach had a certain... natural wildness to it that felt nice, in its way.

But no storms, not really. At least, certainly not ones that blew up in seconds and faded away again just as quickly after. It couldn't really be something she was doing herself, though, could it? Surely it had to be some interaction with the dilapidated weather subsystems of the Rogue beach net, just being triggered by...

Lyntael paused again, taking a long breath and stilling her mind so she could look more closely at what she was thinking, and why. She knew, if she was honest; some part of her did at least... She knew Rogan was right, and more intrinsically than that, even... Why was her unconscious reaction to deny it, or explain how it might not be her? When had it started? The memory surfaced in response at once and understanding came with it.

The first time, the real first time, had been back in the dark, in the place where broken things fell – the description came forward in her mind unbidden, but it felt right – a place of broken and scattered things, lost in the unformed mass of all that remained closest to the void. The rules were loose, down there; what was real and what wasn't was... fluid. She'd found herself and reclaimed the broken parts of both of her, and then they'd forged something impossible together, from the ruins.

Lyntael let her footsteps drift to a halt, then sat down at the edge of the cliff, letting her feet kick free as she stared out at the turbulent sea. Her mind replayed the conflict; two sets of vision seeing all they didn't have; two broken hearts, screaming their pain at one another, and in the unformed space around them, the storm of their fractured souls crying and blazing bright. A feeling held close, remembered and brought back.

Maybe that was why she had been pretending not to notice? If she'd brought something back from the dark, something that wasn't part of her... was that what her subconscious was worried about? Perhaps. She remembered every sensation that had strained both of her selves in those desperate moments, and the two halves made a complete picture, nothing more. Nothing outside herself. A moment of dissonance in her thoughts made her eyebrows draw down; was there nothing outside that didn't belong? No sense unaccounted? Something else that didn't fit, didn't belong.

She wasn't sure where the questioning thought had come from, but let herself dive into the memories more keenly for a moment anyway. She lay back, eyes closed and spread her arms out on the grass, relaxed even as she let the emotions of the memories roll over her. She had felt such different things, and in some of those moments, the pain had become fear and the desperation not to disappear, and it had become fury and a desire to take what was hers, no matter who she had to take it from... but... in the end each feeling, each attack and shouted demand, and each soothing touch, was something she understood from both sides now, and... As she listened to the crash of the waves far below, and felt the curling breeze flow past her, Lyntael's eyes opened staring up at the sky. No... There was something else.

She let her eyes close again, her head dropping to her chest as she focused inward. Just a feeling, not quite a voice but a sense; a desperate empathy and a consoling presence, there in brief moments between them, lost almost entirely in the building static of their resonance, but always a sense of care that was the other reaching out, no matter which side of the memory she recalled. What was it? A fleeting ephemera perhaps – an echo of self born at the clashing of their souls; something that only wanted togetherness. As she explored her feelings, Lyntael felt sure that some of the thoughts weren't entirely hers, or at least that they came from some part unconscious to her... Something that shouldn't have been, something that didn't belong. She stopped and cornered the thought in her mind, wrapped it up carefully and held it close. No. She knew that feeling; she had only ever felt that way about herself, not others. Not a thing that shouldn't have been; someone who cared. A flash of feeling given form – maybe the truest part of her; the voice that, at the most desperate point of everything still wanted, more than anything, to reconcile and to heal. Something welcome, cherished and not forgotten. Nothing that didn't belong.

Lyntael felt something relax in her chest; her eyes well and spill over with soft tears, but her smile remained as she lifted her head, opened her eyes and stood, taking a fresh breath as she did.

“Rogan...” Her small smile became a grin than couldn't be contained and broke into laughter that was snatched up and carried by the wind as she turned her face to the sky. “I know who I am.”

Lyntael is reaching a point where who she wants to be, and how she wants to be is something she can more readily define for herself, and though she's willing to fight to defend herself and others when it matters, she has come more strongly to feel that sometimes the easiest resolution is to take the quieter path.

Other questions emerge as she explores herself; when emotions run high, the world around her responds in ways far beyond the scope of a simple navigator, but care and the willingness to accept and embrace the parts of her that make her who she is reveal that though she may have brought something back with her from the deepest parts of forgotten data spaces, where reality itself becomes ephemeral... it is nevertheless a part of who she is, not separate but welcome.

Level 38:
(Overcharge thresholds: 0-7, 8-15, 16-22, 23-30, 31-38)

Lyntael's Buster is 5/5/5: (30x5/300/600)
Half-Charge Strike: Expend, +4
Full-Charge Strike: Expend, +8

ShotBase ratio deals 50 damage for 40 sig points
ChargeBase ratio deals 200 damage for 160 sig points
SpectralBase ratio deals 75 damage for 60 sig points
SupportBase ratio heals 20 for 20 sig points.

Unchanged:




















New Signatures:










Total Signature Points Used: 1580/1600
==

At the mention of beast hunters and unfortunate deletions the girl offered Suitachi a slightly more nervous grin and nodded her head to him as she took the manifest back and slipped it into her messenger bag, before heading back out the door.

It was a short while later in the day when the door chime for Suitachi's shop rang again, admitting another courier from the business that serviced his off-shore depots. A girl in her mid to late teens, possibly on a work experience placement, paused to look around the shop and check her manifest again with a small whistle to herself.

“Geeze, imagine spending this much on navi parts...” As she glanced over the order form, the small hologram of a navi, from the PET attached other uniform's belt, looked up at her and arched an eyebrow.

“Not that I'd complain, mind you!”
“If I had this much to spare, I wouldn't be parting as a delivery girl...” After another second or two, the girl appeared to remember she was on the job and jumped forward to present herself at the front counter with a bright smile.

“Afternoon! Um, I've got a release order here for some customiser expansions and some process upgrades.” She held out the manifest, passing it across towards Suitachi for his perusal. Like the earlier orders, the release, with its attached payment receipt, was for dispatching the products from a stock depot half a world away where the weather was probably much nicer than it was currently in SciLab, and needed only his confirmation and signature.

==
Rogan Buying:

NaviCust Expand (v21, 22, 23, 24, 25): 5500, 5750, 6000, 6250, 6500 = 30000z
Process Upgrade (v34, 35, 36, 37, 38): 3400, 3500, 3600, 3700, 3800 = 18000z

Total: 48000z
Rogan's funds: 50235z
Funds remaining: 2235z

((Lyntael's Level becomes 38, Navicust is now 165, Sig pool is 1600))

It wasn't too much longer, between an exchange of quiet words as Lyntael made her way to the top of the cliff she was traversing and Rogan keeping one eye on her with his peripheral while trying not to look too invasively at the way her outfit hugged her through her stretching and climbing motions, before he felt that the majority of the serious threat had passed and he could return to his other reading.

He had decided earlier that this outing, aside from the earlier contact for information, would not be one for work... but the reality he faced was that simple sitting and watching, without proper purpose, was just not in him at the moment. Even if he was meant to be relaxing while Lyntael sorted herself out, or at the very least focusing on 'training' her for their upcoming work, he had to be doing something else more productive in the end. His laptop opened again and Rogan began to carefully sift through the files he'd been given; he'd checked earlier that the only recording devices in any sight of him was the security camera near the entrance to the cafe – which was looking inward at the interior, not out here – and a government cctv camera that was part of the net monitoring the public strip, which could not see his screen as he was positioned. It was safe enough to work.

His fingers tapped and danced at a rapid pace as he read and sorted the documents, sifting information and cross-referencing details where appropriate. The main trick, right now, would be pinning down exactly where and what Lance was funnelling all of CC's excess capital to; following the cash was always the fastest way to find answers, in this kind of situation. Glancing sideways, he noticed Lyntael approaching anew group of viruses, beginning with a similar overture to previously. For a moment he thought to speak up – at this point they had passed by more of the virus that they were meant to be hunting, than she had actually deleted, but the girl had made it fairly clear to him by now that actually hunting the bounty was a secondary concern to her. He kept quiet and let her speak to the new entities, as she had before.

By all accounts, the organisation's navigator experiments and weapons programs were the main focus of their covert operations; they were what the core company was doing while its many subsidiaries provided more legitimate fronts, but there was more to it than that and that was becoming clearer the more he dug into it. There was some specific purpose that Lance was trying to prepare for; pitting his ever improving tools for breaking data protected navis, against his continually improving... augmentations... for navigators, was all clearly moving towards something, when nothing they produced or destroyed was ever considered a success on its own. Just stepping stones. The weapons research was similar – he was trying to make something, something that would utilise navigator programs as the 'mounts' for his advanced weaponry, but the purpose was opaque still; any weapon a navi could use could only ever be a purely digital artefact, easily overpowered by real world level actions by people, and utterly unable to cross beyond the bounds of its network limitations... so what goal was this really all about?

His eyes scanned a document that sidetracked into a discussion of electromagnetic field projection and his brow furrowed over it for another minute before he looked back to Lyntael's screen. Her voice in his ear had remained calm while he worked, and now she seemed to be moving on from the group she had encountered without any further issues... though still no increase in her bounty tally, he noted.

On a whim, or perhaps by some quiet instinct, Rogan flicked her screen over to the girls more detailed diagnostic view, complete with its human-accurate medical read-outs and privacy-invading level of detail. He was growing more accustomed to understanding the elements of it that mattered, and he found himself unsurprised to see that it was happening again. If Lyntael returned to her PET now, her statistics would no longer align with its record of her limits, or indeed its capacity to account for her. This would be the feeling she had described before; the sensation of being pressed in on, and constrained in some way she couldn't describe, simply by being in her home. He wondered if he should question that more. From what he'd learned more recently, the majority of navis battled to afford upgrades, which, when installed, would make them stronger, faster, and sturdier, and so on... he had assumed the same, in the early days and acted accordingly... but now it was clear that Lyntael's presence and capability just seemed to grow, all of her own, and if he didn't purchase more expansions she ended up feeling stifled by the device. If Eric was willing to patent whatever special project he had designed to create Lyntael, he could probably make a mint...

As one of the cafe's waitstaff came by to check on him, Rogan switched his screen across to Suitachi's SciLab storefront, just in case anyone got overly curious, and ordered a lemonade. His eyes returned to the screen a moment later, then flicked across to Lyntael's PET readings, and the portion of Zenny that had been set aside for her personal 'training' fund. Well, as long as the funds were there, there was no sense holding off on the space it seemed like she was going to need... though Rogan had to admit, the increasing cost of the physical upgrades and firmware updates to improve the device's efficiency and capacity were growing quite pronounced, at least as far as a side-hobby went. He placed a new order with the courier company that serviced the store in this region.

Rogan realised with an absent thought that he wasn't really getting any further work or research done any more, focused as he was on his navigator's journey. The midday sun was beating down hard, and heat mirages drifted up above the nearby beach, making the rolling blue waves beyond shimmer. From his comfortably sheltered cafe repose, he looked around at the constant stream of milling people moving in every direction, heading to any number of attractions – the white sands, the bustling theme park, the colourful shops or the mildly exotic eateries and cafes, much like this one. Even with the breeze, the baking heat was making his long-sleeved clothes feel stifling... but somehow he did feel like shorts and a singlet, as seemed to be the more common attire, would really suite him. Oh well.

Glancing down again, he listened with a careful ear as Lyntael and her former sparing partner made sure they were each alright. His attention piqued more prominently as they spoke about giving her a new outfit of some special construction, and Rogan's immediate instinct was to groan internally and wonder just how inappropriate and indecent it would end up being – because of course it would, wouldn't it?

He watched the exchange and then immediately started a quarantine scan as the data was presented to his navi; as much as some of the embedded subroutines were almost certainly harmless diagnostic reporters, Rogan removed them anyway – even harmless diagnostics from feedback for a whole outfit could potentially carry information about Lyntael's unique situation that couldn't be allowed out into places where it could be potentially found by unfriendly eyes.

By the time he was finished, he could tell that Lyntael was already very eager to put the outfit on, which, given her state of undress he was not about to delay any further. He felt an involuntary twitch threaten at one eyebrow as the girl decided that it would, apparently, be most sensible to remove her own underwear entirely before putting the new clothes on. It was a body suite, yes, but surely that wasn't necessary...

Once she was dressed he had to draw her attention again as she set its colouration – apparently unaware that she'd pulled it down to complete transparency while adjusting. The other navi, thankfully, was showing no interest in watching her dress, but Rogan really had to wonder what the explanation for these nigh on predictable difficulties could possibly be. The suit itself looked more like fetish wear than an outfit, in his personal opinion – a fact he was depressingly unsurprised about... though it was better than nothing.

Distantly, he hoped that he might prevail upon the girl to call it a day, but the gift of a new outfit – no matter how not-really-decent he personally felt it was, seemed to galvanise her to push on and Rogan heard himself sigh as she pressed him for new directions. Every time he thought it was safe enough to look at his navi on the screen, his eye would inevitably be pulled to a curve or a groove, mapped in skin-tight detail by her new outfit as she moved, and he would end up feeling like a pervert again. He gave the directions all the same, but as Lyntael chatted on about her choice of paths, a comment from her surprised him slightly... was she actually unaware that she was the one responsible for creating the odd weather patterns around her? He cleared his throat.

“I'm not sure if you were paying attention, Lyntael, but I suspect that might actually have something to do with you. As far as I'm aware, even the more deprecated sections of the network aren't quite that prone to sudden dramatically timed storms.” He'd pitched the remark in good humour, but her reaction as she stopped and looked skyward, apparently lost in thought on the matter, told him that she truly hadn't realised before now. Just another peculiar thing about his peculiar navi, he had to suppose. He focused on her expression as she looked to the sky, and the way she closed her eyes, listening to unseen senses. His eyes drifted down to the top of her chest, and the place where her emblem had once rested, identifying her as a netnavi to any who looked. Now it was gone, and she remained. Not for the first time recently, Rogan wondered just who and what the young girl before him truly was now.

It wasn't too long before Rogan found himself pondering, once again, the strange twists of fortune that seemed to surround his navi and her wardrobe; despite assurances of how isolated she was, and the low chances of coming across anyone else while she was wandering through the network in her underwear, sure enough another navigator came into range of the PET's readings and Rogan spent several moments looking at the reading with a flat expression. His rational mind said there as no such thing as bad luck and misfortune in the tangible, mystical sense... and there was surely and certainly no way that the girl could be orchestrating repeated decency-threatening situations, even if she sometimes seemed to respond in ways that invited further distress. And yet. And yet here it was again. He sighed and shook his head to himself.

“Looks like you've got another incoming, Lyntael. One signal, navigator signature.” He didn't mention that the surface layer scan showed the navi to be at least masculine presenting, for however much that meant amongst navigators – because of course it was. Before he noticed it, his hand had slipped across the controls towards the button needed to immediately pull Lyntael from the situation, just in case.

Lyntael didn't respond to his murmured warning, but subtle as it was he saw her steps slow, and other small shifts in her stance and movement that gave tell to caution and wariness. He kept quiet, but the thought that wouldn't be still in his mind reflected on the change – remembered a time when she might have rushed towards a potential new friend with guileless open excitement. The cause was more than justified, and he knew – even if she was questioning it – that Lyntael was no less gentle and no less kind, for the loss of her naïvety. But even so... His caution grew as the navi made his dramatic entrance in front of Lyntael and challenged her; that he knew her name and was looking for her was more worrisome still, no matter the excuse he gave.

Despite misgivings Rogan help his silence while they talked, using the time to examine the other figure more carefully with what little scanning information the PET itself could retrieve without the extra functions of his probe being online. The suggestion of a 'friendly' duel, however was another red flag that he could not approve of. He told her so in a silent message but his navi seemed determined to push on with the challenge.

Seconds passed as Rogan watched the pair face off then begin to spar; there ought to have been nothing too concerning about it, really, but he could feel a tension and a discomfort all the same. He checked her link again and reassured himself that she was correctly jacked into the network and that the PET's emergency system was online and listening correctly. How had he ever dared to send her into spaces via an unstable emulation before, where a flicker at the wrong time might cost terribly? How had he simple accepted the times that she slipped out onto the net on her own, completely disconnected, where any slip might lead to disaster?

Lyntael... danced. His eyes watched her slight form twist and weave, graceful and in perfect balance as she flowed around the battle, evading and striking out in rapid succession. She seemed... calm, despite the growing ferocity of her charge... almost like she was enjoying herself. The words of her conversation with the other navi washed over him and Rogan pushed down another small wince. She was carefully playing the role of an unoperated navi, for their security, but some of the comments cut at him all the same.

The readings on her PET showed the strain of energy starting to wear painfully on her body, but on screen, Lyntael herself was barely showing any sign of the discomfort it said she was feeling. He wondered if he should be glad, or sorry for that. It was good of course, that she could deal with the pain so much better now, but... His thought was interrupted as he watched Lyntael strike then weave away, twisting her body, but just a fraction too slowly as the other navi landed his first real strike of the match. Her shriek of sudden agony filled his ears and drowned out other thoughts, just as physical damage warnings, fought their way onto the screen.

“Lyntael!” He had shouted across the line before rational thought caught up. “That's enough!!” He barely registered her suddenly denuded form, beneath the violently bleeding cut down her front; her shriek was followed by a more directed, angry shout from the girl – fear, pain and fury, and words that sent a fresh shudder through him. Of course that was where her mind would go, sliced open in violence, by a man with a blade – Rogan's minds quickly filled in the blanks while Lyntael exploded with light and wild electrical surges amidst the suddenly breaking storm. His first call had been to stop the other navi, but he now saw the figure backing off, a look of sudden horror and worry on what he could make out of the navi's features. He hadn't been expecting to case harm like this... and why should he? It wasn't how navis normally worked, after all. Lyntael, on the other hand... in a moment Rogan knew that she wasn't seeing this unfortunate stranger in a friendly match any more, and all unnoticed, the girl had grown far stronger and more dangerous than she really knew.

The sudden fury of her retaliation masked the rising panic he could see she was stuck in, and the brutality with which she battered her opponent wasn't helping it. Rogan swallowed, trying to work his own dry throat and spoke again, clearly, but with a firm and steady voice that he kept from rising.

“Lyntael, listen to me. My voice, Lyntael. You can hear me, listen.” He saw the other navi go down amidst a storm of electricity flaring bright enough to interfere with the PET's visualisation. “Lyntael, Stop. You are not There. That is not Him.” He paused for just a moment, then pressed on. “Calm down, and breath, Lyntael.”

Her form burst into sight again in the middle of the area, and he could see the tension making her limbs tremble, the blood on her body while lightning danced in the wounds and across her skin. Clenched teeth, wide eyes; short, rapid panting.

“Breathe, Lyntael. Just breathe. You are okay. You are not in danger.” And judging from her reaction, she may never really have been so from this warrior. His words seemed to pass over her unheeded for a moment, before he saw her squeeze her eyes shut and draw a deeper, heaving breath while her body sagged and folded in on itself for a moment. All around, Rogan noticed the sudden thunderstorm dissipating as swiftly as it had arrived.

In the moments that followed he made sure the other navi was at least reading stable, even though his main focus was on Lyntael herself. It puzzled him still, the way her own nerves and trepidation seemed to vanish the moment she thought someone else was in more trouble than her, though perhaps that said more about him, that such an ideal seemed so alien. He didn't know whether to be exasperated or resigned when the girl announced that she intended to continue, regardless of the – in his opinion – very many and obvious reasons to stop for the day. She wouldn't brook his objections either, despite the fact that she was actively having to use one arm to cover her decency while dealing with the other navigator.

He found himself cut off, unable to respond as she called out the unfairly pointed fact that, when it really mattered, the people she might have to face again one day were not the sort to wait upon her decency. Rogan fought down another flare of angry nausea, unwillingly drawn to think of the way a certain navi had done the horrific opposite. He didn't have words to answer it. Lyntael probably didn't think she was being cruel – he could tell that it was simply a determined pragmatism in her voice – but reflecting on those events still made him feel ill and ashamed. He lapsed into silence and relented.