"WE LOST FRIENDS."
The Altered children of Sword Station stared at Pyra where she stood, on top of a desk on the bridge, space stretching infinitely behind her. Not a single face in the crowd lacked a grim expression, and more than a few were shedding tears. Con had worked around the clock for three days to remedy the most serious of injuries, now looking up to Pyra with bags under his eyes. There were still plenty of scrapes and bruises to go around, though none were life-threatening.