The Redactor stood on a metal catwalk above them, a silent predator looking down at its prey. Her face was as forgettable as ever, a placid mask of nothingness. She was not alone. Flanking her were four figures in dark, featureless uniforms. The low-level soldiers of the Blank Page Legion.
"The rats have found the cheese," the Redactor's voice echoed in the sterile room, devoid of any inflection. "Did you enjoy the history lesson? It is your last."
With a curt nod, her four recruits leaped from the catwalk, landing silently on the floor below, brandishing short, wicked-looking blades. They moved with a fanatic's resolve.
"Engage!" Ronan yelled, shoving a heavy crate over for cover.
The fight was a disorienting storm. Cain became a phantom, using the shadows cast by the machinery for hit-and-run attacks. Ronan shouted warnings and directions, his powers giving him split-second insights into the recruits' probable movements. But the Redactor remained on the catwalk, a puppet master pulling their strings.
As Cain moved to intercept a charging recruit, the Redactor focused. [Memory Parasite]. Cain faltered, the image of the recruit momentarily replaced by Ronan's face. The hesitation was only for a second, but it was enough for the recruit's blade to slash across his arm. "She's messing with us!" he hissed. "Can't trust what I'm seeing!"
Isolde was their only defense. She stood near the center of the room, a beacon of calm in the chaos. She closed her eyes, projecting a subtle field of her [Echo] of Silence. It was not a physical quiet, but a mental one, a dampening field that made the Redactor's psychic intrusions feel fuzzy and unreal, allowing the others to fight through the confusion.
The Redactor's cold gaze immediately identified the source of the interference. She marked Isolde as the priority threat. "Take the quiet one," she commanded her recruits.
Two of the soldiers broke formation and charged directly at Isolde. Liam, seeing the danger, moved to intercept, but one of the recruits was faster. As Isolde shoved Liam out of the way of a downward thrust, the other recruit's blade darted in low. It was a short, cruel-looking dagger, its edge coated in a dark, oily poison. It slid cleanly into Isolde's side.
Isolde's eyes flew open in shock, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The serene field of silence she was projecting collapsed instantly.