The Factory - The next day
Jack stood in the center of his factory floor, surrounded by crates of materials and workers who'd stopped their tasks to stare at the three young women who'd just entered like they owned the place.
Because, technically, they did.
Octavia Kaiser surveyed the factory with the practiced eye of someone who assessed everything for strategic value.
Her golden eyes tracked inventory, worker stations, and the organized chaos of production, calculating costs, profits, and implications without seeming to try.
Celeste wandered between crates with casual interest, her usual carefree demeanor intact despite the factory's utilitarian atmosphere. She poked at a bundle of herbs, wrinkled her nose at the smell, then moved on to examine monster parts with the detached curiosity of someone who found everything mildly entertaining but nothing particularly urgent.
Annabelle bounced on her toes near the entrance, her small frame radiating excitement.
