The Reaper continued its silent vigil through the night.
From six thousand meters above the forest canopy, the drone was little more than a distant speck against the stars, invisible to the people below and inaudible beneath the rustling of leaves. Its electro-optical sensors remained fixed on the group of torch-bearing figures moving through the wilderness. The messengers had not slowed since leaving Site Two. They traveled with purpose, taking routes that suggested familiarity rather than exploration.
Inside Atlas Base, nobody had left the command center.
The lights remained bright despite the late hour. Maps covered every available surface, coffee cups accumulated beside keyboards, and several operators had changed shifts without the atmosphere in the room changing at all. Fatigue hung in the air, but so did anticipation.
Marcus stood behind the Reaper operator.
"Speed?"
The operator checked his screen.
