"Why kill him?" Knight asked as we hovered once more above the fractured island, the sea still churning through the clean splits in the land below.
"He was going to die anyway," I replied casually, my gaze already shifting. "I just moved the timeline forward a little. People like him have a habit of sprinting toward their own end."
Knight didn't argue. He rarely did once I said things in that tone.
My attention settled on Shera Ranthor.
The Feran general stood in his chamber, an old scroll unfurled in his hands. I extended my perception and skimmed its contents without effort. What I read made my expression tighten.
Loss reports.
Heavy ones.
Requests for reinforcement, urgent, poorly masked as routine. And not just internal reinforcement. The message explicitly called for aid from outside the Blue Spiral Galaxy.
That was the part that caught.
My eyes narrowed as I finished reading. "Interesting."
Knight followed my gaze. "What is it?"
