We moved like shadows through steel.
Camille's disguise held, but not perfectly. Even with her work stitched from full-level skills, we were still three people supporting a fourth, slinking through concrete passageways that echoed more than they should've. Our steps were silent, our breathing shallow, but every shift in fluorescent lighting felt like a spotlight. Every door we passed was another roll of the dice.
The disguise she gave me was sharp-edged and imposing. A tactical coat with stitched rank bars and subtle weave illusions that bent the air slightly around my shoulders, making me seem taller, broader. Higher rank. Alexis and Sienna wore similar layers, though Camille's touch was different for each of us. Alexis had the air of precision—something clinical, hard to look at for too long. Sienna looked dangerous in a more grounded way. Me? I looked like I gave orders.
Or that was the idea.
Camille was barely breathing.
