Rodion Dungeon Exploration (5)

At that moment, Rodion's helm dipped once, the motion eerily in sync with their decision—as though he heard the conclusion through stone. He drew his cloak tighter. The fabric's nano-threads shimmered, altering hue to a muted slate that matched the cave walls. A readout blinked across Monkey's feed:

Elowen's lips parted, a satisfied little breath escaping. She slid one finger toward the cookie plate but did not take another; her attention glued to the sentinel below.

Rodion moved.