I let it hold for as long as it needs to. Then I break it.
“The artifact would have destroyed your house,” I say.
No lead-in. No softening. Just the truth. Or enough of it.
He doesn’t react immediately, but I feel it in him anyway, subtle and contained, the way tension moves through someone who refuses to let it show fully.
“Explain,” he says.
“It doesn’t give power the way you think it does,” I reply. “It connects. It binds itself to whoever takes it, and through that connection, it opens one of the Deceiver’s gates. Not a doorway through space. A doorway through outcome.”
I don’t say the name. Not yet.
“That connection spreads,” I continue, choosing each word carefully. “Through blood. Through lineage. Through anything tied closely enough to hold it.”
His gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“And you’re certain of this.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I’ve seen it.”
That’s enough for now. It has to be. Silence follows again, heavier this time, filled with implication instead of absence.
I let it sit. Then I shift forward slightly, drawing a line before he can push deeper.
“We don’t have the artifact,” I say. “Which means the situation has changed.”
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“We’re not chasing it,” I continue, ignoring the edge in his tone. “Not like this. Not immediately.”
His expression tightens, just slightly.
“We don’t have the position for it,” I add. “And if Xalith uses it the way I think he will, we won’t need to chase him.”
That gets his attention.
“He’ll create conflict,” I say. “Fast. Visible. He won’t wait.”
“Agreed.”
“Velkiron will respond,” I continue. “Which means the next phase isn’t retrieval. It’s intersection.”
I see the shift as he follows the thought, aligning it with his own. Now we’re speaking the same language again.
“We position ahead of that,” I say. “Not behind it.”
“With what resources?” he asks.
“That’s the part you don’t know yet.”
I let that sit. Let him feel it. Not as leverage. As reality. His gaze sharpens again, more focused now, less restrained.
“You’re holding information.”