Ken rubbed the back of his head, posture small. He looked like a child who'd been caught sneaking out past curfew, his usual confidence completely stripped away. Blood still streaked his face, and his body was covered in cuts and bruises, but it was the shame in his expression that was most visible. He opened his mouth, probably to offer some kind of explanation or excuse, but the words died before they could form.
Olmo cut the moment short, stating flatly that the discussion would come later. His voice was cold, detached, leaving no room for argument. "We'll talk about this after," he said, his eyes still fixed on the ihes. "Right now, focus."
He pointed, directing Mira, Jelo, and Ken to handle one ihe while he took the other. The gesture was casual, almost dismissive, as if he were assigning homework rather than orchestrating a life-or-death battle. "You three take the one on the left. Don't get in my way."
