"He might be less pleased when you and your marionetas are dragged away in Legion custody for the whole world to see."
Galaxy. World. Whatever, ask Azúcar if she cares about the semantics when she dismisses her thermoptic camouflage with a flick of her claws, perched near the far end of the room— one hand on a door panel that's already been thoroughly (and discreetly) overridden to let the rest of her companions through, the ones less capable of slinking through ventilation shafts and reinforced maintenance routes.
The symbiotic nature of brains, brawn, and bypassing security routes like a 1980s basement hacker. Good times.
no subject
Galaxy. World. Whatever, ask Azúcar if she cares about the semantics when she dismisses her thermoptic camouflage with a flick of her claws, perched near the far end of the room— one hand on a door panel that's already been thoroughly (and discreetly) overridden to let the rest of her companions through, the ones less capable of slinking through ventilation shafts and reinforced maintenance routes.
The symbiotic nature of brains, brawn, and bypassing security routes like a 1980s basement hacker. Good times.