What of Hod, could he send word to his Minister of Logic, and ask for his advice on this? Somehow, his instincts told him otherwise. There was a wish, from a different part of him, to move with a lightness currently. As to the feeling in his chest, and the direction he was pointing in, not even his own mind was privy to his intentions far in advance. Nor was Nila, or the soldier who walked alongside him.
A good few men in that corridor, guarding it. Blackthorn and Patrick alike. Oliver called out to them.
"Soldiers, fall in with me," he spoke to them – all of them. The Patrick men came hurrying with a crispness, but those Blackthorn men hesitated, wondering whether they could just outright disobey his orders. Eventually, they settled in as well, until Oliver was walking with a contingent of twenty men, many of them shooting each other harsh looks.
