Heriean saw the man step forward and managed the name through the grip on his throat.
Heriean's mouth shaped the name again, quieter this time. "Rui-Chai, do not waste it."
Relief and anger sat inside the name together, and neither softened him.
Rui-Chai stopped a few paces from Threxian and Heriean. He wore no dramatic armor, no red-lined collar, no polished command badge for the drones to admire. His coat had been cut at one sleeve, and dried blood marked the side of his neck.
He still made the remaining Black Bulls stand straighter.
Threxian looked at him over Heriean's weakening body. "The elusive leader finally enters after others paid admission."
Rui-Chai's eyes moved to Heriean first. "Rest. You bought the angle we needed today."
Heriean tried to answer. Threxian's grip tightened enough to turn the attempt into a rough sound.
Rui-Chai's face stayed calm while Heriean fought for air.
That calm did more to the room than shouting would have.
