The hotel hallway was quiet. Not peaceful—just still.
I stepped out to clear my head. The silence didn't help.
Nel followed. I didn't hear her, but I felt her presence.
"You did it again," she said.
I turned slowly. "You're going to have to be more specific."
She didn't laugh. Her arms were crossed, eyes sharp. "You executed someone who could've been brought in. Again. You didn't even try."
I didn't argue. Not yet.
Instead, I raised my wrist and tapped my watch.
A holo-screen blinked to life. Files. Reports. Redacted lines and Organization memos.
I pulled one open and flicked it toward her. "Name: Elias Marren. Known aliases: 'The Strategist,' 'Warden of Silence,' 'Kestrel.'"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Six prior escape reports. Three ambushes. Two field operations where he walked through a kill team untouched. And this—"
I opened another file.
It was a mission log.
Video footage.
A scorched field. Ten bodies. Burned out essence signatures.
"He took out an entire obsidian support unit by himself. Left one survivor. A rookie who can't even speak anymore."
I let that sink in.
"I've read the full case files," I said, my voice low. "I studied him after we lost a cousin to him. This wasn't about being judge and jury, Nel."
I looked her straight in the eye.
"This was about making sure no one else ends up on that list."
She didn't respond right away.
The glow of the files faded as I closed the watch screen.
"I know he was dangerous," she said finally. "But there's always a line, Ron. And every time you cross it without blinking, I worry you're forgetting where it is."
I didn't flinch.
"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe I'm the only one who sees that some people will keep drawing blood until someone finishes the damn job."
Her face didn't soften, but her shoulders did.
She stepped past me, her voice quiet as she brushed by.
"Don't forget who you are in the process."
And just like that, she was gone.