The gunfire slowed.
Not because they ran out.
Because it was no longer needed.
The men who had rushed them didn't press forward again. They repositioned instead, creating space rather than closing it.
That was wrong.
That was intentional.
Virek stepped out from partial cover, his movements precise, controlled, already recalculating.
Sarai stayed just behind him, her breathing steady but alert.
"…this isn't normal," she said quietly.
"I know."
Footsteps approached.
Not rushed.
Not cautious.
Just… steady.
Keller stepped into view like he had always been there.
He didn't carry tension the way the others did. No urgency. No visible effort. Just presence.
His eyes moved once across the room, taking in the damage, the positioning, the distance between them.
Then they settled on Virek.
"…you're faster than I expected," Keller said.
Virek didn't respond.
Keller's gaze shifted slightly, taking in stance, posture, the angle of his shoulders.
"You adjusted quickly," he continued. "Most people don't, the first time something doesn't go the way they planned."
A brief pause.
"You didn't hesitate."
"You sent them in to die," Virek said.
Keller tilted his head slightly, like he was considering the wording.
"I sent them to see what you would do," he replied. "There's a difference."
"No," Virek said. "There isn't."
Keller watched him for a moment.
Not irritated.
Interested.
"…still the same," he said quietly.
His attention shifted.
Not fully.
Just enough.
"…and you brought her."
Sarai felt that immediately.
Even without stepping forward.
"That's not what this is," Virek said.
Keller didn't argue.
He just looked at him.
Long enough for the silence to carry meaning.
"You remove variables," Keller said. "You always have."
A beat.
"But you didn't remove this one."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"You kept her."
Sarai leaned closer, voice low.
"He's trying to get in your head."
"I know," Virek said.
Keller's eyes flicked toward the movement.
"…you're still talking to her," he said.
A small pause.
"That's new."
Then he moved.