Rutile's admonishment seems to be sufficient to coax the crowd into dispersing, though several eyes do look back at the pair of gems to ogle at them. But before too long all the hangers on have either boarded the train to depart the station or ventured down the stairs leading to the street and the rest of the city.

Now Antarcticite has no choice but to confront the recklessness of their actions.

"Not how I would have greeted the skytrain, I have to say. Are you injured?"

They colour, chagrined, at the comment, then look down with some dismay to the slender crack that has appeared along the side of their thigh; near the knee joint, the crack has spidered some. "Ah, yes," they admit, and quickly scour the ground near the edge of the platform in search of any stray shards that may have come loose in the chaos. "I'm sorry, Rutile. I should have been more cautious--I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up."

Then they look up, confusion evident on their features, and admit, "I still don't even know how it's possible that I'm here at all."