The air in the Obsidian Range was thin and tasted of ancient ice and scorched minerals. High above the cloud line, the jagged peaks of the northern wilderness rose like the teeth of a sleeping titan. For Leo, the silence of the mountains was far more intimidating than the industrial roar of the Grey Zone. He stood at the edge of a frozen plateau, his tactical black boots crunching on the permafrost. The sapphire light in his eyes was muted, pulsing with a low frequency rhythm that kept the subzero temperatures from penetrating his skin.
He had left Dante and the Sterling reconnaissance teams five miles back, hidden in a lead lined cave that masked their heat signatures. As the Sentinel, he had to make the final approach alone. Any more Alpha presence would be interpreted as a challenge by
