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Rodin took a reconnaissance trip in the early hours, ignoring Paskia’s comments about his need to rest. His arm didn’t ache as much now, nor did his thigh. There was a tightness in his guts—those ready meals were never as good as proper food.
He made a mental note to heat up something decent when he returned. An hour or so more outside first, though, observe a few more warriors if he could. The hypothesis was still vague.
It had been Paskia who spotted the pattern, realised the warriors weren’t heading directly for the Brothers’ base. She’d pointed out how the attacks were starting to arc around the edges of the district, as if they were working on sealing it off.
Rodin had passed the intelligence on to Genna, but not Jornas—no need to let him think he was in the clear.
