Strax slowly raised his hand, without taking his eyes off the core.
"Frieren…" he said, his voice low and steady. "Step back a little."
She looked at him immediately.
"Strax, if you're thinking of—"
"I know," she interrupted, without turning her face. "But this isn't reacting like a normal core. If there's any kind of consciousness here… it will respond better to someone who doesn't try to break it first."
Frieren hesitated.
The air around the core rippled now, as if space were breathing irregularly. Each pulse made the petrified roots creak, like ancient bones under tension.
"If something goes wrong," she said, taking a few steps back, "I'll pull you out by force."
He smiled slightly.
"I'm counting on it."
Frieren stepped back to the edge of the hall, discreetly erecting a containment barrier, not to trap him, but to prevent the instability from spreading. His eyes never left Strax.
He took a deep breath.
And he moved forward.
