Somto followed, the calm in his expression almost unnerving, as if waking in an unknown place was routine for him.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
Arthur's eyes moved in a tight, deliberate sweep, floor to ceiling, left to right, recording every detail. He pressed two fingers lightly to the wall beside the bed, tapping once, twice, three times, listening for air pockets in the structure.
A faint, hollow thud made his jaw tighten. With a sharp motion, he slid a thin black blade from inside his boot and pried open the seam just enough to reveal the faint gleam of a lens. He crushed it between thumb and forefinger before tucking the broken pieces into his pocket.
