Of course, they moved in the way soldiers who had trained for a long time would, the kind of formation that covered ground without rushing and maintained spacing without being told to.
At the front of the formation walked a Kytinn female.
Four arms. Compound eyes arranged in a broad cluster across her face. Her carapace was segmented armor plating across every surface, engraved along the shoulders and forearms with marks that Reidar knew from Xy'tharr were service records—decades of interventions, catalogued in lines too small to read at this distance but dense enough to cover every available surface. She moved like someone who had walked into dangerous situations many times and had always walked out the other side.
Her nametag appeared as she came within range.
—[Lyra'xis Sola—Level 550]—
Reidar read the number and went still for a second.
She was only seven levels below him, which meant she was a threat.
