“I said I was finding new homes for them. I just… slip them under doors at night. Legacies have the best rooms, so I usually start there. And they all know they can come back to their momma if they’re ever hungry or need something. This rat,” she says, reaching up to scratch its belly, “was my first. He still gets to stay in my room, don’t you Bartemus?”

I smile, watching as she nuzzles her nose toward the rat, who leans in and lets her. “So you’ve been filling the legacy rooms with rats, Mireen?”

“Usually just one per room.” She sounds a touch defensive. “Unless they were sibling rats or particularly good friends, then I send them in small groups.

“And what about my room, Mireen?” Beck asks, sounding like he’s on the verge of hysterics.

Mireen shrugs in a way that says she definitely rat bombed him.

After the two of them finish bickering, we set aside our weapons and sit to revisit the topic of Brunhild and whether we should add her to our group.

"She's strong as hell," Beck says, slapping the mat to emphasize his point. "And her elemental is a fucking giant crab with claws that could snap a man in half."

"She also threatened to throw me out a window," I remind him.

"That was before she got to know you," Beck argues. "And anyway, she didn't actually do it, which shows restraint."

"Setting the bar pretty low there, Beck," Mireen says dryly.

"Her combat performance is apparently top-tier," Ambrose adds, ever the practical one. "Physically, she’s nearly as strong as Beck. Having two powerhouses on our team provides a tactical advantage."

"Is that all that matters?" I ask.

Ambrose frowns. "What else should matter in a life-or-death scenario like the Crucible?"

"I don't know. Maybe trust? Loyalty? Knowing someone has your back because they actually care if you live or die, not just because it benefits them?"

The room goes quiet. We've all seen enough death at Confluence to know exactly how fragile life is here, how quickly someone can go from friend to memory.

"I trust her," Beck says, his voice softer than usual. "I know that might not mean much coming from me, but... she's not what she seems at first. There's more to her than just muscles and threats."

"My intuition is telling me she's trustworthy," Ambrose says, touching his temple. "Despite the window-throwing threat."

I sigh, studying my newly healed arm. The weight of the coming Crucible presses down on me, along with all the other dangers circling ever closer. Can we really trust someone we barely know?

"Your friends are right to be concerned about numbers, angry human. In battle, a single ally can tip the balance between life and death."

"Even if that ally might be the one to stab us in the back?"