The queen straightened, smoothing invisible dust from her skirt. "Thank you."
Mikhailis watched her interaction, amusement settling into something softer. She talks to machines the way other rulers talk to their generals. No wonder they adore her.
Monkey swung an arm forward, urging them closer to the light display. New overlays bloomed: heat signatures, distance markers, troop identifiers in soft, readable fonts. Elowen's gaze tracked every label with hungry curiosity.
"Is that a newly opened side tunnel?" she asked, pointing at a branching image. "See that glow? Could be sulfur deposits."
"Sharp eye," Mikhailis said. "Worker squad thirty-two discovered it yesterday. I've queued soil tests—if the air quality's safe we'll expand storage."
