[This is not the Erik anyone of this Barge has come to know. Something has shattered in him. He's graduated. The camera floats in front of him, held in the air by his mutation: the angle makes the cause of this change obvious. To one side, Charles' body lays, broken, bleeding; on the other lies Ben's, impaled by a dozen make shift spears. The area around them has been torn up by Erik's ripping panels and light fixtures and anything not metaphorically nailed down from their proper places.]

Charles is dead.

[There is weight in his voice, a heaviness laying on his head, but it doesn't break. He stays steady, out of necessity. Erik is not a defeatist: he is not giving up. He is making a choice.]

So is Ben.

[The camera floats ahead, and behind him, Charles' body rises in his wake, following. Ben is left in a pool of his own blood, abandoned. Erik heads for the stairs, brow furrowed - silent, but not done with the broadcast, not yet.

Along the way, bits of metal come to him, hovering on the peripheries.]

You're all so intent on killing each other. That's what it takes to graduate. [He's heading up, taking the stairs two at a time.] To have a second chance at life. All you have to do is destroy everything you hold dear.

[His throat tightens, compromising his calmness: everyone on board will feel the ship ripple just slightly.]

So be it, then. But I've had enough of this cock fighting.

[More metal is coming to him, faster, melding together around him.]

No more murder. No more pointless infighting. You're done.

[Ahead of him, the door to the deck slams open as he steps through; the angle changes, and he stops walking, but his forward momentum hasn't halted. He's floating. The bits of metal close behind and above him, forming a dome as he floats above the nightmare Arthas has made of the deck. It's open enough for him to be seen, but it's closing fast.

Another tremor runs through the Barge.]

When that door opens, there will be a new Admiral. And it's not going to be someone who doles out death like handshakes. We've all endured enough.

[He remembers Cuba, and he remembers the choices he made there. He knows the choices he's made here, and the one he's making now.] This will never happen again.

[The sphere closes, perfectly enclosed, and hangs above the deck. It will stay there, guarding or waiting, until the door opens.]

( spam for Charles )

[Private separately to Alex, Anya, Raven, Ivy]

Are you all right? [He's tense, tired, but he needs to know they got back safe.]

[Private to Jean]

[This is harder, because he hates, hates that he couldn't prevent what happened to her, hates that she was one of the ones to suffer.]

How are you feeling?

[Private to Kelsier]

I'm sorry I couldn't come for you. [Awkward, a little, because how do admit he cares without admitting he cares.]

[Private to Barbara]

[Nope this is even more awkward.] He was taken care of.

[Private to Zane]

[He's a little more hesitant, but he did tell Charles he'd try. Besides, at least in this, they have something in common.]

I thought I'd put him down permanently. But well done, dealing with him.

[Private separately to Vin and Marsh]

[There's a lot of hesitation before he says to hell with it and puts this one out: might as well collect all you Mistborn folk.] How did you make out?

[Open spam in the CTS]

[A few days after returning to the Barge, when the exhaustion has ebbed and Erik feels like himself again, he can't put off the excitement anymore. He hasn't pushed himself very hard, here; he hasn't had to. Since Raven gave him the glitter, it's been on his mind, but only in port did he realize just how far he could be pushing himself. And he intends to push hard, as hard as he can, now.

In the CTS, he's bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to test these new limits. He had known them, once, but they keep changing, evolving (he likes how that sounds), and there is so much more he can do with magnetism than throwing metal around. That's easy: he's here to practice something much more difficult.

Electricity crackles through the air; it's like the weather itself is attacking him, not terribly unlike the port they just left. But that's all right; that's what Erik wants. He just needs to figure out how to conduct it without that almighty anger. So far, he's just been shocked a lot.]