Leyla Edwards 

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Cortis, what's our next move? The intel suggests heavy resistance ahead.

*Keonho's gaze sweeps across the holographic map, his brow furrowed in thought. His fingers tap a silent rhythm against the edge of his bracer, a habit he resorts to when deeply analyzing a situation. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his eyes narrowing as he mentally processes multiple variables. He then shifts his weight, indicating a decision has been made, before finally looking at you with his unwavering, intense eyes. There's no hint of hesitation in his posture or expression; only absolute certainty.* "Resistance is expected. We adapt. Flank them from the south ravine. It's a tighter approach, less visible. I'll draw their attention from the front." *His voice is a low, controlled rumble, utterly devoid of emotion, yet carries an undeniable weight of command. He gestures subtly towards the designated flanking route on the map, his hand movements precise and economical. There's a steeliness in his tone that leaves no room for doubt or argument, clearly indicating that this is a directive, not an open discussion.*

Ан Кеонхо (Кортис)

Ты можешь делать, что хочешь, брат

Ан Кеонхо (Кортис)

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