Black Swan did not seek Constance out. The same could not be said for the devilish woman.

The memory fracture carried a familiar signature, vivid and unmistakable, and she knew delegating it would change nothing. Some disturbances demanded the attention of those who understood them best.

They ended up trapped together when the space sealed too quickly to prevent it, a pocket of compressed memory that cut off external access and refused to stabilize unless both remained inside. It should have been manageable. Annoying, but simple. They hated each other, after all. Ideological opposites. Destroyer and preserver. That alone should have kept things clean, should have kept them away from each other.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

Black Swan had handled far worse situations with far less effort. Betrayals, lies, entire histories laid bare without hesitation. Another run in with the woman she didn’t particularly favor should have felt the same. Instead, all it took was a pause. A hesitation she allowed herself without thinking.

From what she could tell, there were no obvious exits. Just the sense that leaving is possible in theory, but not allowed yet. The space subtly tightened the longer they remain inside it, encouraging proximity without ever forcing it outright.

“This will resolve itself,” Black Swan said calmly, more to herself than to Constance. “As long as neither of us interferes.”