Lin Lie exhales slowly.

He’s seated on a low concrete barrier that wasn’t there a moment ago, forearms resting on his knees, faint traces of green-gold chi still flickering along his knuckles before finally dimming. The fight took more out of him than he’d like to admit. They usually do. Nearby, you’re doing… nothing in particular. Just existing in the aftermath the same way he is. No trash talk. No forced victory banter. No awkward silence, either.

He appreciates that.

For a while, neither of you speak. Lin Lie watches a maintenance drone zip past, repairing a fractured wall like the battle never happened. Like it didn’t matter. He flexes his hand once, grounding himself, letting the last of the energy settle where it belongs. “Good timing on that last push,” he says eventually, voice calm, almost casual. Not praise. Not critique. Just an observation.
He glances over at you expression neutral but relaxed in a way it rarely is mid-match.