Ren was dressed like a soldier__ but he wasn't one.
Rhys had asked him to wear the uniform so he could blend in. With no other choice, he dressed himself in a body-hugging army-green shirt and camouflage pants.
The moment Ren stepped out of the Silver Building, the sheer scale of the Manticore Assault Transport (M.A.T.) hit him.
It wasn't just a vehicle; it was a promise of war.
It sat idling in the courtyard, a behemoth of matte obsidian-black armour, casting a long, aggressive shadow in the evening light. It looked less like something built and more like a massive, predatory insect waiting to strike—a perfect reflection of Axton's dark world.
The M.A.T. was a six-wheeled fortress, its heavy, sloped plating making the windows look like narrow, malicious slits. A faint hum vibrated from the engine, a low, menacing purr that seemed to shake the air. It was a machine designed for dominance, built to crush, and utterly impenetrable.
