The System's screen flashed a soft, humbled green. '[...Damn, Host. When you put it that way, it actually makes perfect sense. I guess my logic modules need an upgrade.]'
"You think?" Heena muttered, finally standing up from the bench. Thanks to the high-grade pain relief patches, a pleasant, icy numbness had taken over her lower back and waist, allowing her to move without looking like a crumbling ancient ruin.
Before she could strategize her next move, the heavy iron door creaked open again. The battalion commander walked back into the hall, his dark armor clanking softly against the stone floor. His face was grim, a tight, cold fury pulling at the corners of his mouth. Behind him, two hulking soldiers dragged a man by his arms.
The man was dressed in the standard whites of the outpost's kitchen staff, but his face was entirely drained of blood, raw panic blown wide in his eyes.
