Rowe did not come alone this time.
One other person walked beside him.
She was older, grey threaded through dark hair, and she carried herself with the settled ease of someone whose authority had long ago stopped requiring announcement. There was no insignia Vane could see. No badge, no marked weapon, nothing that declared rank by any system he understood.
None of it was necessary.
Rowe walked half a step behind her.
Not far enough to look subordinate. Just far enough that the shape of the hierarchy became obvious without either of them needing to speak.
The woman stopped at a respectful distance from the ruined house and allowed Rowe to continue first.
That choice told Vane almost as much as anything they were about to say.
She had brought him because he was the bridge.
She had stopped because she knew the bridge needed to be crossed carefully.
Isole met them at the edge of the clearing.
This time, she did not begin with names.
