An hour later, people began to emerge from the temple.
Noah stood with Sophie at the base of the stone steps, watching figures file out into the pale light. Most of them he didn't recognize. Strangers, all of them. Men and women in tattered clothes, moving with the careful steps of people who'd forgotten what freedom felt like. Some squinted against the sun like they hadn't seen it in months. Others just stood there, breathing, taking in air that didn't taste like captivity.
Then the familiar faces started appearing.
Damien Grey came first. The king of Raiju Prime looked older than the holos Noah had seen, thinner, with lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. His hair was still that distinctive grey-silver, but it hung limp past his shoulders instead of tied back properly. He wore simple pants and a shirt that had probably been expensive once but now just looked worn.
