The mercenary did not turn fully.
Only his eyes shifted, measuring the man who had just asked for assistance.
"You don't strike me as someone who asks for it," he said.
"I don't."
The mercenary studied him more carefully.
"You intend to enter the castle."
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
A faint breath left the mercenary.
"You will fail."
"Not if the distraction is sufficient."
That earned him a full turn.
"So you require interference."
"Yes."
"For extraction."
"No."
The answer was immediate.
The mercenary's eyes narrowed slightly.
"No?"
"No."
Silence stretched.
"Clarify," the mercenary said.
Wilkinson's gaze drifted toward the castle silhouette in the distance.
"I require a window."
"For what purpose?"
"A conversation."
The mercenary did not move.
"With Nux?"
"No."
That pause was deliberate.
"With whom?"
Wilkinson's voice did not shift.
"Sir Mallious."
Recognition flickered.
"The stabilizing replacement," the mercenary said quietly. "The craftsman turned ruler."
"Yes."
"And you believe you will simply walk in and speak with him."
"Yes."
"You are aware he commands the inner ring."
"Yes."
"And that Nux watches him closely."
"Yes."
The mercenary studied him in silence.
"This is not about the girl," he said at last.
"No."
The answer was steady.
"She remains inside the castle."
"Yes."
"And you are not attempting to retrieve her."
"No."
The mercenary's jaw tightened slightly.
"You are willing to leave her there."
Wilkinson's eyes returned to him.
"She will not remain."
The statement was calm. Certain.
"You trust that."
"Yes."
The mercenary searched his face for doubt.
Found none.
"But she is not your objective," he pressed.
"No."
A shift in the air.
Not anger.
Not yet.
"You are prioritizing a meeting with the false ruler," the mercenary said.
"Yes."
"And you require my disruption to reach him unnoticed."
"Yes."
The silence that followed was heavier now.
"You've already destabilized the outer districts," the mercenary said. "Rations. Gates. Patrol rotations."
"Yes."
"And this escalation?"
"Will force Nux outward."
A beat.
"And inward," Wilkinson added quietly.
Understanding sharpened.
"You want Nux distracted at multiple pressure points," the mercenary said slowly, "so that the inner corridor thins."
"Yes."
"And in that thinning… you reach Mallious."
"Yes."
The mercenary held his gaze.
"This is not a rescue."
"No."
"It is not vengeance."
"No."
"Then what is it?"
Wilkinson's mechanical fingers flexed once at his side.
"Correction."
The word landed differently.
The mercenary tilted his head slightly.
"You believe he is misaligned."
"Yes."
"And you intend to realign him."
"Yes."
"How."
A long pause.
"By removing uncertainty."
The mercenary watched him closely now.
"This is about knowledge."
"Yes."
The wind shifted through the trees.
"And if the girl chooses that same moment to act?" the mercenary asked.
"She will."
"And you will assist her?"
"If required."
It was the first conditional answer he had given.
The mercenary absorbed that.
"So she is not abandoned."
"No."
"She is simply not your primary objective."
"No."
That was honest.
Sharp.
The mercenary exhaled slowly.
"And in exchange for this interference?"
"Name your price."
"You have coin?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"As much as required."
A pause.
"I do not want your money."
Wilkinson waited.
"When this is over," the mercenary said evenly, "I want a word with her."
Wilkinson's gaze did not shift.
"For what purpose?"
"That is between her and me."
"No."
The refusal was immediate.
The mercenary's expression cooled.
"You misunderstand your position."
"No," Wilkinson replied evenly. "You misunderstand mine."
Silence pressed between them.
"You will create the fractures," Wilkinson said. "You will have your compensation."
"I said I do not want your coin."
"And you will not have her without consent."
The words were anchored.
"You would deny me," the mercenary said quietly, "after I thin the inner ring for you."
"Yes."
A beat.
"She will decide."
The mercenary studied him.
"You are certain she will escape."
"Yes."
"And you are certain she would agree to speak with me."
"No."
That answer lingered.
A flicker of something crossed the mercenary's expression.
Then it settled.
"Very well," he said at last. "Three fractures. Outer gate diversion. Supply yard ignition. West corridor patrol misdirection."
"That is sufficient."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
"That is ambitious."
"Yes."
The mercenary stepped back.
"You are not rescuing her," he said one final time.
"No."
"You are confronting him."
"Yes."
A pause.
"And you believe that will change something."
"Yes."
The mercenary held his gaze a moment longer.
"If you die," he said, "our agreement dissolves."
"If I die," Wilkinson replied evenly, "then he remains misaligned."
The mercenary considered that.
Then disappeared into the trees.
Wilkinson remained where he stood.
The castle loomed against the horizon.
Inside it waited:
A ruler who did not know the truth.
A girl who would not wait to be saved.
And a man who believed removal was necessary.
Tomorrow night, something would be corrected.