The Rootsite's canopy glowed faintly under the deepening dusk, a living citadel bristling with fresh growth.
The newly arrived civilians had been fed, bathed, and given sleeping quarters carved into verdant alcoves. Still, the air in the council hall was taut.
Clayton leaned over the war map, tracing three red vectors through the outer sectors.
"These are the bait trails Korrath left us," he said, his voice low. "All of them lead deeper toward the machine warrens, but none directly to New Chicago. He's keeping the real heart of his operations out of easy reach".
Torren closed his arms. "Then why follow at all?"
"Because we need to send a message back," Clayton replied. "If we let his raids stand without a response, the civilians coming here will think the Rootsite can't protect them. Worse, he'll think we're on the back foot".
Kaelin's smirk was razor-thin. "So we go in… but we don't take the bait all the way".
