The trench coat man was waiting in a room at the compound's center.
Black hair, deep purple eyes, mid-twenties. Not leadership but close enough to it that his presence in this conversation meant something.
He sat in a chair that faced the door, and he didn't stand when they entered.
Alistair assessed him. His scan returned a Characteristic reading that was controlled rather than suppressed – not hiding what he was, just managing how much of it showed.
The reading had depth to it, layers that Alistair's Equalizer couldn't fully resolve without adjusting for the offset several times.
'That's not a reading I can trust without recalibrating at least twice more.'
"Solev," Osren said, and then left the room.
The door closed behind Osren. No explanation, no introduction beyond the name. That was its own kind of message.
Solev looked at Alistair with the brief assessment of someone who wasn't surprised by Silas being there. That told Alistair enough.
