Kroza's gaze sharpened behind his crystalline lenses, scrutinizing every flicker in Rattan's body language.
"We have observed your recent focus. Your research proposals. Your requisitions. Your questions. There is… a sudden and rather intense interest in the war."
A murmur swept across the chamber. "In steampunk warfare technology. In ratman engineering. Even in the battlefield salvage we've retrieved."
A beat of silence. Then Kroza leaned forward slightly.
"So tell us, Apprentice—why?"
Rattan did not answer right away. Silence was his ally. He had learned that well during his time among the humans and goblins. Measured breaths. Controlled gaze. Words weighed like ingredients in alchemy.
"Because they built it," he said at last. His voice was calm, focused. "The ratmen. They built it under fire, under pressure, in desperation. And it worked."
More murmurs, but Kroza raised a hand to silence them.
Rattan continued.
