Leaving the noisy landing zone, the group arrived at a private room with no windows and exceptionally thick walls. Outside, guards patrolled continuously in groups of three or five.
During their brief, simple conversation, Franka's expression changed repeatedly. In the end, she nodded gravely, indicating that she understood the dire situation Columbia faced and the Columbia government's request to use her to contact Rhodes Island.
"As for Rhodes Island's assistance..." Franka pondered, then gestured toward the elite operator Blaze and the unfamiliar Magnus and Leman Russ. "They are the aid Rhodes Island has sent. They're operators who were urgently pulled from what little free time they had. If you ask for more... I don't think the Doctor will agree easily. He'll definitely demand that you submit a complete report for his analysis."
Sander pressed his tongue against his lips, nervously raising a small bulge. He had long been astonished by Magnus and Leman Russ's massive builds and their ornate, heavy armor, but once that surprise passed, it turned into disdain.
What era was this?
Knights had long since been driven out of relevance by Originium firearms and Arts artillery. These relics had minds as stubborn and hard as their armor; they were not worth trusting at all.
Meanwhile, Blaze—quite young, dressed in a standard Rhodes Island trench coat, with a tactical belt at her waist and a yellow backpack—earned a trace of appreciation from Sander.
Wasn't this what elite personnel were supposed to look like?
[Did he just look down on our armor?]
Leman Russ sent the question psychically to Magnus, clearly displeased.
[Forgive him, my brother. This place reeks of the idea that 'technological progress' is supreme. It is only natural that they would disdain relics like us. It reminds me of those T'au.]
[*If this man had learned