Nos Voros
Rubrus Remnant
He stood where she'd left him still, composed, hands loose at his sides. Letting the silence do its work. He didn’t interrupt. Not even when her voice shook."Good intentions can still have dangerous outcomes."
He said it without blame.
"I'm not pretending this didn't happen, keeping it quiet isn't the same as erasing it entirely. It's a distinction that matters more than you'd think."
He glanced once toward the stairs, toward the home he’d walked into and the kitchen that still smelled faintly of the food he'd left behind.
"You tested something on yourself. You lost control at least twice. That’s enough to make anyone a liability. I don't have to report these incidents. That's keeping it quiet. I can't just leave you be and report you benign – that's pretending nothing had happened. It doesn’t mean you’re evil. You and your work is not stable."
He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t close the distance. Just gave her space to hear it clearly.
"I'm not here to imprison you. Or coerce you. Or turn this into anything worse. If someone else had seen that outburst? I suspect even the diarchy would see to it you're followed, flagged, and recorded."
A subtle shift in tone. Cold, but honest. She had to understand the stakes.
"They wouldn’t ask if you were a good person. They’d ask if you were worth the risk."
He let the words settle. Not cruel. Just the truth.
"You want to prove you’re not a threat? Show it. Practice, learn to control it. Show restraint, self-awareness. We both know the theory isn’t the issue."
