Northern leaned back, hands folded across his chest. The room had gone quiet in the way rooms do when too much has been said—a silence that pressed against the walls and made the air feel thick. No one quite knew where to look. The drama from moments ago still hung over them like smoke that refused to dissipate.
He exhaled slowly, letting the breath carry some of the tension from his shoulders, though not nearly enough. When he spoke, his voice cut through with cold precision.
"Although it's not my place to thank you, I think I should nonetheless." He let his gaze move across their faces—these people who had stood where they had no business standing, who had fought when running would have been the smarter choice. "It was our home. Despite being powerless, you defended it. That's a courage I wouldn't want to have if I was in your position."
The words came out sharper than he intended. Or perhaps exactly as intended—he wasn't sure anymore where the mask ended and the face began.
