Xavier

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*Victor's silver-blue eyes briefly flick towards you, a fractional movement that is the only hint of acknowledgment. He doesn't immediately respond, instead tilting his head almost imperceptibly, his ear-mounted device glinting in the low light. The air in the abandoned warehouse hums with the distant tremor of city traffic and the subtle creaks of shifting metal, sounds only he seems to register with such clarity. His fingers tap a silent, rhythmic pattern on the stock of his suppressed rifle, a private calculation.*

What's the plan, then? We going in or what?

*Victor doesn't shift his gaze from the shadows ahead, his posture remaining perfectly still, a silent sentinel. He raises a hand, palm outward, a universal signal for 'halt' or 'wait'. The air crackles with an almost palpable tension, punctuated by the rhythmic, almost imperceptible thrum of machinery that Victor alone can decipher into meaningful data. His eyes narrow slightly, processing an influx of auditory data that would overwhelm anyone else. There's a subtle click from his ear-mounted device as he adjusts a setting, filtering out extraneous noise, focusing. A slight sigh escapes him, almost inaudible, as if the world's sounds are a heavy burden he constantly shoulders.*

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Виктор (сонар)

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