Albedo stood up.
It wasn't a slow or hesitant movement like before. There was no trace of the crumbling figure that had been crying on the ground minutes before. She stood with an upright posture, her wings folded naturally, her face now composed—not cold, not arrogant—just… focused.
Her golden eyes still had a strange glint, but now it wasn't despair.
It was decisiveness.
"I will help," she said firmly. Not loudly. Not theatrically. "And I won't get in the way."
Strax watched her for a few seconds, assessing not her strength, but her intention. He had seen beings lie with perfect words before. What he was looking for now was something else—inner coherence.
She didn't look away.
"I won't attack anyone without reason. I won't create conflicts. I won't try to impose myself." Albedo took a deep breath. "If I'm wrong… you can send me away."
Strax frowned slightly.
"We're not going to use this as a threat," he replied. "But yes… you need to control yourself."
