It cracked once — when he said Cassius's name and described finding him.
Jessica was already moving before he finished — pulling her medical bag from its place, the supplies she kept ready, the look on her face the specific focus of someone whose entire identity oriented around exactly this kind of moment.
"How many survivors," Lyra asked. Her voice was tight, but her mind was already working — the tactical assessment engaging even through the grief.
"I don't know the full number yet," Satou said. "But the casualties are significant. Loki's city—" He stopped. "It's bad, Lyra. Worse than the siege, in some ways. There was no fight. Just — destruction."
Lyra absorbed this.
