The crowd parted naturally before Alex, as if the sea of humanity itself recognized it could not impede his path. Children were lifted onto shoulders to catch a glimpse of him. Old women wept openly, pressing their hands to their hearts. Men who had fought in the recent battles stood straighter, their chins rising with pride that such a man walked among them.
Alex's expression remained calm, but his mind never stopped processing. Seventeen thousand, four hundred twenty-three civilians in immediate viewing range. Forty-seven martial lords scattered throughout the crowd acting as security. Three snipers on the surrounding rooftops, Alliance personnel, not threats. The calculations flowed beneath his composed exterior like an underground river.
He raised his right hand slightly in acknowledgment, and a wave of sound washed through the streets. Cheers, sobs, prayers of gratitude.
Rafael commented within his mind.
