The boy was outside, sitting on a stone block detached from the fort itself. The surface was irregular, with edges still marked by recent fracture, but it served as a seat. From there he had a wide view of the terrain extending beyond the damaged walls.
The sun had already gained height, and its light traveled the landscape clearly. The combat's remains were exposed without nuances: cracks in the earth, scattered rock fragments, areas where the structure had given way without remedy. The air felt cleaner than during the night, though the trace of what occurred remained present in every corner.
Lloyd kept his gaze forward, in silence.
In his head, the plan advanced with order.
The sooner they attacked Bernard Sargas, the better. There was no point prolonging it more than necessary. Each moment of waiting played in the enemy's favor. However, there was a clear limit he couldn't ignore.
Lucia.
