Tycondrius massaged the bridge of his nose, attempting to relieve the psychosomatic pressure of his current dilemma.
The loss of Wroe weighed on his heart... and the thought of losing another clouded his judgment.
However, he did not fight alone.
While he sought to keep alive as many of his allies as possible... they were not his weakness. They were his strength.
And so, he turned to his dear friend, Krysaos-- a man he trusted with his life, for advice.
"Nnnnevermind!" The Captain declared, "It turns out: I have *no* idea what you were gonna say! So jus' go ahead and say it!"
Krysaos' grin lacked even a tinge of apology.
Tycon quietly cursed himself for expecting more.
Shaking his head, he turned to address his stalwart companions.
"Sol Invictus... the mission is not yet over. From here on, we shall recover one of our own: the Lone Shadowdark."
