The pace inside the Command Base was calmer now.
The weight of the last mission still lingered, but there was a sense of relief — a rare and necessary moment.
—
It was Patricia, as Chancellor of the Base, who sent out the internal communication:
> "Attention, Clan.
This Saturday, we will gather at the pool area on the top floor of the Base.
Special parrillada organized by our dear Camila.
Rest, conversation, and planning.
Attendance is expected."
The news spread quickly through the Transcoders.
Discrete smiles appeared in the stone corridors.
Even Kael, always so reserved, allowed himself a slight nod of approval.
—
The pool, with its clear waters and open view of the sky above the dimension of Brussels, would be the stage for the gathering.
Camila — the vibrant and spontaneous Argentine — would lead the parrillada.
Meat, wine, soft music, and above all, time to be more than soldiers.
Time to be brothers and sisters in the journey.
—
Patricia also sent a special invitation to Otrho at Marco Norte.
His reply came a few hours later, via encrypted message:
> "Chancellor,
Thank you for the invitation.
However, Marco Norte is... different now.
There are movements I must personally oversee.
I wish you all a good celebration.
We will meet again soon.
— Otrho."
Kael read the message silently.
He understood immediately.
The North was restless.
And the shadow of the Abyss still loomed.
—
Even so, Saturday would be honored.
The moment of fellowship was as essential as any battle.
And between grilled meat, laughter, raised glasses, and whispered plans, the Clan would begin to shape what would become:
Their true future.