No one was unrelaxed in the presence of the stranger in the grey lane.
Tohu had residual authority at the surface. Athena's spear was aimed at the man's center. Kratos had one chain loop clear at the wrist. Hades regarded him with open dislike, raw from seed language and the borrowed memory of selection. Jehovah's supervision pressed at his edge like a warning that this conversation was already near a line.
Zeus spoke first. "You know the phrase. You know the route language. Tell us your name and motivation."
The independent lowered his hands but did not bow. "Call me Rhen. I move roads that are incomplete, continuity scraps, judgment edges. Not of House. Not of Black Star. Not one of Sera's bought eyes. I work where the maps are thin."
Sera's observers stiffened at the rear, which only made Rhen's faint smile deepen.
"And why are you here?" Athena asked.
