Chapter 33 – The Silver Stitch
Uzo walked back to the riverbank. The adrenaline crash hit him hard, making his knees weak.
Nearby, the Silent Legion was doing what soldiers do after a massacre: they were licking their wounds.
Three hundred giants sat in the mist. They weren't cheering. They were stripping off their Dead Iron armor, revealing skin bruised purple and black from the impact of the shadow-blades. Even though the shadows hadn't cut their flesh, the conceptual impact had left deep, aching welts.
Ronnie was kneeling beside Kaelen.
The Void Knight was in bad shape.
The Null-Ink spike had gone straight through his forearm. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the pain was blinding.
"Hold still," Ronnie grunted, holding a flask of moon-gin and a curved needle.
Kaelen didn't flinch. He stared at the waterfall with his glowing white eyes.
"Do it."
Ronnie poured the alcohol over the wound.
The black blood hissed and bubbled.
Then, she began to stitch. Not with thread, but with silver wire.
Uzo watched, feeling a pang of guilt.
I did this, he thought. I made the plan. I shook the world, and Kaelen took the spike for me.
He walked over to them. His footsteps were heavy.
"Kaelen," Uzo said. His voice sounded flat in his one good ear.
The giant looked up. His face was gray with pain, but his eyes were steady.
"Lord," Kaelen rumbled.
"Don't call me that," Uzo said, sitting down in the freezing mud beside him. He didn't care about his trench coat getting dirty. "Not right now. Just... are you okay?"
Kaelen looked at his stitched arm. He flexed his fingers. The massive hand shook, but it closed into a fist.
"Pain is a definition, Uzo," Kaelen said softly. "The King defines pain as weakness. We define it as fuel."
He looked at Uzo.
"You saved the Legion today. You turned the valley into a drum. My ancestors... the Harmonics... they would have been proud."
Uzo looked down at his hands. The gray stain on his fingertips seemed darker now.
"I nearly killed us all," Uzo admitted. "I assumed light would work. I was arrogant. If you hadn't roared..."
"But I did roar," Kaelen interrupted. He placed a hand on Uzo's shoulder. It was heavy and warm. "That is the pact, Uzo. You write the strategy. We provide the volume."
Ronnie tied off the knot on the stitch and wiped her forehead.
"He's right, you know," she said, taking a swig of the gin before handing it to Uzo. "You're the brain. He's the muscle. I'm the one who makes sure you idiots don't bleed out."
Uzo took the flask. The gin burned his throat, chasing away the cold of the mist.
He looked around the camp.
The Mute warriors were sharing rations dried meat and hardtack. Some were sharpening their clubs. Others were sleeping, piled together like wolves for warmth.
It wasn't an army of mindless monsters. It was a family.
A broken, silent, violent family.
And for the first time in his life, Uzo realized he wasn't just a "Glitch" in the system. He was their Anchor.