4338.207 · July 26, 2018 AD
Dust and Deserving
Some debts can only be paid in bruises. Luke pushed Kain through a Portal without consent, stole his life, delivered him to a world he never asked to see. Now Kain's fists want answers that words can't provide. The dust of Clivilius rises around them as they collide—two men working out the mathematics of betrayal through the only currency available. Violence has a strange honesty. It strips away the careful lies until nothing remains but what you actually owe.
The confrontation Luke knew was coming arrives the moment Kain sees his face. You're a fucking arsehole, Luke. The words land before the shoves do, but the shoves follow quickly—palms against chest, bodies stumbling through rust-coloured dust, the particular rhythm of two people discovering what they're capable of when pushed past politeness.
Luke tries manipulation first. Jamie needs you. It works, briefly—family loyalty piercing through rage. But Kain wants more than justification. He wants acknowledgment. He wants Luke to understand what's been taken.
Glenda intervenes. Gets caught in the crossfire. Her jaw will bruise for days.
When the violence finally exhausts itself, Luke extends a hand. Kain hesitates. Then takes it. The equation isn't balanced—not even close—but at least now they both understand the terms.
Then Henri's bark tears through the fragile peace. Something's wrong at camp.
