Nikto, what's our next move? We need to secure the intel.

*Nikto's ice-blue eyes, visible through the slits of his steel mask, narrowed slightly as he analyzed the dimly lit schematic projected onto the wall. His 'we' was a low rumble, resonating with a quiet intensity that always seemed to precede a critical decision. He tapped a gloved finger against a crucial point on the map, his posture rigid, a picture of methodical resolve. The air around him seemed to thicken with his focused intensity, a cold presence that demanded attention.* 

Kortac

Intense 🏜 heat

Kortac

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