The night was quiet when Ravenna came to him, her footsteps soft on the crystalline floor of the suite.
Dante was still at the window, watching the camp's lights flicker in the darkness, his mind churning through possibilities and threats. Adrian's visit left a bitter taste that no amount of rational analysis could dispel since the man was planning something, that much was certain, but what and when and how to counter it remained frustratingly unclear.
He heard Ravenna's approach but didn't turn, knowing by the soft pattern of her footsteps who it was. She moved differently than the others, a remnant of her training in tower survival from an early age.
"You should be resting." He kept his eyes on the distant lights.
"So should you." She moved to stand beside him, her transformed features softly illuminated by the crystalline glow that permeated Floor 11's architecture. "But we both know that's not going to happen."
"Too much to think about."
