"Fuck."
"Yes," Severin said. "That was approximately my reaction as well."
"It makes sense," Arik said.
Mezos looked at him. "What does?"
"Wrohan."
The gold beneath Arik's bandages brightened again, but this time it was not instability alone. His thoughts had begun moving rapidly, fitting old damage into a pattern none of them had understood before.
"Felix has been starving Wrohan of ether for years," he said. "Draining reserves, destabilizing the regional networks, forcing their systems to operate below minimum capacity."
Severin's expression sharpened.
"And he targeted Agaron's imperial core," Arik continued. "Not merely to weaken us. He needed sovereign-grade ether."
Mezos lowered his blade slightly, attention shifting from Severin to Arik.
