"The diving team just jumped in. We are monitoring right now."
Arkai hummed an acknowledgement as Damon's voice crackled through the car's internal speaker. He was seated in the back of the convoy's lead vehicle, here with the young Saintess beside him.
Lilyca Celeste folded her hands over her lap, her silver-white eyes fixed on the dam's approaching silhouette.
The concrete monolith loomed through the tinted windows, grey and imposing and, apparently, leaking corruption into the lower levels at a rate that had made someone, somewhere, decide that waiting for the Saintess was a luxury they could not afford.
"We will arrive at the gate in three minutes," Arkai said.
"Copy." Damon killed the connection. He was brusque and efficient as usual, especially to Arkai. They still hated each other's guts.
But Arkai understood. That man could've had seventeen other crises to manage and it was his way of trusting Arkai to handle this one.
