“Is that really the Sunsmith?” Ivan asked, not to Hector, seemingly, but simply aloud. “To come to me alone like this--does he fancy himself a warrior now? Have his days of cowering beneath the corpses of better men come to an end?” He threw Hector a knowing glance. “If so, I’m disappointed. Bravery doesn’t suit him.”
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Nine: ‘O, guardian of the Sun...!’
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After receiving the distress call from Raml’hahl, he’d come to assess the situation personally. It was certainly not proper for the presiding head of the Qal’majilis to attend such a matter alone, but he could not abide waiting for everyone to catch up. In terms of first responders, none in Sair would best him, save perhaps Rayen Merlo, but by all accounts, that woman was quite possibly a traitor and now captive of the Vanguard.
And now that he’d seen the devastation--not just in Raml’hahl but all across Moaban--his mood had only worsened. The fact that he now sensed this overwhelming soul power was just icing on the cake, really.
Over the years, he and Haqq had tested the suit as intensely and exhaustively as they possibly could. In theory, he was prepared, but he held no illusions about it. No simulation could match a real fight with one of Eleg’s juggernauts.
The Lord Abbas Saqqaf tapped his index finger and thumb together, holding them there for a second, and the suit answered him. Two drones deployed out of the shoulder mounts and began following closely behind him as the fusion-propulsion jets on his back carried him across the sky. The drones couldn’t break the sound barrier under their own power like his suit could, but they could still take advantage of the small draft he created in his wake.