...As if they were expecting something.
But aside raising his dagger to his face in a defensive stance, Soren said nothing.
One of the rune-laced cadets tilted his head.
The shifting neuralink glyphs across his throat slowed—then aligned.
He spoke.
"Blood of the Sacred…"
His voice echoed unnaturally, layered, as though several mouths were speaking through one throat.
"Have you come to deny us freedom?"
Soren blinked.
"…Parasite," he said, baffled despite himself. "You can talk?"
The cadet's glowing eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in something closer to disappointment.
"We are not breaking the treaty out of disobedience," he replied calmly.
"We ask only this. Why bond with and serve a human whose will is like fleeting wind?"
Soren frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Before the first could respond, the second rune-laced cadet stepped forward. The runes along his spine flared brighter, rearranging themselves as he spoke.
"Brother," he said, voice heavier, resonant.
