Backstage was cooler. Quiet. Like stepping into the back room of a restaurant that'd just served three hundred screaming customers.
Lucen rolled his shoulders as he passed the resting booth. His left elbow still ached faintly from the early block. Nothing serious. Just a reminder that Rikta had some weight when he wasn't overcooked.
A door ahead hissed open, and Gen stepped through it holding a bottle of something that looked like mana soda and disappointment.
He raised it like a lazy toast.
"Well, well," Gen said, grinning. "Ghostweave, huh?"
Lucen sighed. "Kill me."
Gen handed him the drink.
"Be honest. Did you practice the whole 'walk off without a scratch' thing or did that just happen?"
Lucen cracked the tab open. Didn't sip yet.
"He swung too hard. His own body did half the job."
Gen nodded. "Classic first timer on a booster. All burn, no aim."
Lucen finally drank. Bitter. Not cold. Functional.
"You post this yet?" he asked, nodding at Gen's device.
