[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230401/a7cf000398d767b3272acda949c3afd0.png[/img][/center][hr] Nico remained at his post, looking around for any signs of intrusion or an attack on the delegates. In the meantime, his thoughts went back to the last few weeks. [color=AntiqueWhite][i]I swear, each and every mission is crazier than the last. First the paper dragon, then a haunted ship, and now Superbia. What a time to be alive…[/i][/color] He gave a slight smile. Despite the extreme shift in scale from his time in Athens to being at a wartime meeting, it still felt oddly nice to have a bigger purpose, to save lives and fight for something that wasn’t just himself. The mercenary work, while paying reasonably well, never seemed right. Nico only ever took jobs he thought had a greater chance of helping out someone other than the client, and Task Force Obsidian absolutely fit the bill. Even if most of his comrades were of an odd sort, they were still good friends in Nico’s eyes. He went out of his way to learn at least a little about them, but hadn’t quite gotten around to fully talking with everyone, including the newcomers. Williams seemed alright enough, with the kind of sarcasm that comes with age, and likely similar conversation. Mikoto on the other hand seemed like someone to be avoided, from what little he could tell, but it wouldn’t stop him from trying to make small talk if the opportunity came up. Nico shook his head and took out a spare phone he had in his pocket: nothing too cutting edge, just something to occupy time between theaters of combat. Like he’d done a few times before, he started to scroll through old pictures of before he joined the war efforts: family photos, birthday pictures, and a few snapshots of the time he spent with his friends back home. It gave him a twinge of nostalgia, and a bit of homesickness that faded away. [color=AntiqueWhite]”Soon enough.”[/color] Nico muttered the affirmation in his native Greek. He’d make it back there. There was nothing to be homesick about. [center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240411/4b333d0ba9447c73043a243ef063e60d.png[/img][/center][hr] [color=LightCyan]“As you wish.”[/color] Aoi didn’t care enough to say a farewell, it was a waste. She just took the beacon and went to work. The scout was putting her skills to use from the moment she walked in. Ren and Yulian made a mistake by threatening the group, as it let Aoi know what they looked, sounded, and walked like, and that was enough to track the two in the crowded exhibition center. She let the goings on and her fellow newcomer, an older man named Williams, be her distraction, they were interesting enough to function as such. Hearing that not only was the old man Jaime dead, but the Seven Virtues had gotten to the Bamboo Spear only added another part to her long term plans. But the current steps took priority. With no sound and no light, her Noble Arm appeared while she held the beacon box in her hand. The gloves she called Perfect Accomplice weren’t flashy or imposing, and that was perfect. As Aoi began to get closer to Huo Ren, the more useful of her abilities became active: Death Count - Evasion, the skill that made her a ghost to the world around her. [color=PowderBlue][i]The count has begun.[/i][/color] Navigating a crowd was not a new skill for her, and this was no real challenge for her, as she took some extra care in order to not be touched. It was well under a minute between the activation and her making contact with the Dragon’s phone. She activated the beacon the moment her finger grazed the phone, silently warping away. [color=PowderBlue][i]The count has concluded. 23 minutes remain.[/i][/color] Any intermittent uses were rounded to one minute; her Noble Arm was particular in that regard, for whatever odd reason it had. The fact Death Count was used at all was enough to burn through precious time, and all that Aoi could hope for was that Myron’s shield had room, and that one minute wouldn’t be missed later on.