"Listen," he said. His voice re-found that small teacher tone that made people lean without realizing. "We have to finish this the way we started. No big heroics. We are not hammers."
Her chin lowered a millimeter: go on.
He drew breath and pitched his words to the nearest captains watching his hand, not his face. His fingers talked in clean lines. "No kill‑rush," he said. "We cradle the limiter first. Then we take the head."
From other nets and perches, small signals answered—palms opened, two fingers raised, a bow lifted and tilted. Agreement moved like a wave rolling the bones of a fish.
Bright hearts had rolled into a shallow cup of stone near the crack, shining through dust like coins at the bottom of a well. They seemed to glow brighter because the room had dimmed. A crown flickered toward them out of habit and stopped when Mikhailis raised two fingers without looking.
