Elliot.
The name landed heavy in the dark.
"Elliot?" Don called out, his voice rolling across the open space and coming back warped and thin.
Starboy didn't wait for confirmation. He was already moving, fingers snapping a light sphere free from his belt and activating it in one smooth motion.
"Yeah?!" Elliot's voice came back, strained and ragged. "It's me—cough~—help me, damn it—argh—I don't think I'll last much longer!"
Starboy gripped the sphere and tossed it toward the sound without slowing. As it flew, he turned his head just enough to look at Don. "Is he one of them?"
There was no hesitation in the question. At this point, trust was a liability.
Don's eyes stayed forward. "I can't be sure at first glance."
Starboy frowned. "Why not?"
Then, quieter, glancing back the way they'd come, "And… do you think that Pyro guy's okay?"
Don didn't answer that. "Let's worry about ourselves first," he said. "As for why I can't tell—" His gaze narrowed. "You'll see."
