The scratch of pencil on paper. A harsh scrape. Crossed out sketch, corrected equations, back again to the modifications. Plan, calculate, sketch, correct, repeat. Fontech wasn't Jade's specialty, but Guy and Asch could only be so much help. Jade's feelings were irrelevant.

The door had been left open. One of the others must have failed to shut it, and Jade couldn't be bothered to get up and close it. So he just left it as it was and continued his work on the table. He had a cup of tea. He had light food to sustain him. He could work until he had some progress.

And that lost world would still be lost, so mourning was irrelevant. Pain was fruitless. Anger had no purpose off a battlefield.

Jade worked in silence. And if there was anything else in his head but numbers and theory, he did not consider it worth his thoughts.