Ward didn't take them back to the command room.
He walked them past the traffic lanes, past the forklifts and fuel bladders, past a row of containers marked with stenciled numbers, and into a quieter strip behind the residential block. The noise dropped fast. The air still smelled like oil and hot metal, but the engines were farther away.
"This is the guest wing," Ward said. "Temporary. You'll sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we start the boring parts."
Ragna narrowed her eyes. "If your boring parts involve more wrestling, I'm leaving."
Ward glanced at her hands. "No wrestling. Medical check, paperwork, orientation. Rules. Schedules."
Mira's mouth tightened. "Paperwork."
"Yeah," Ward said. "Welcome to a real organization."
Lyris kept her gaze on the buildings. They weren't like the barracks. These were smaller, lined in pairs with a narrow walkway between. Each door had a number plate. There were lights above the doors, steady and bright.
