Greta's Message Through Oskar

The warehouse finally went quiet. Outside, Stormcall Harbor kept moving: waves below the cliffs, mist through the broken windows, wind cutting through the fractured skylight. Inside, My Alchemical Romance had blood on the floor, prisoners to question, and too many pieces that did not yet explain each other. Then the door opened. Oskar Duskshade stepped into the warehouse soaked from the sea air, cloak damp, looking as if Greta had sent him through the weather instead of around it. His first news was practical: Dhaz had made it back to Greta's camp alive and was recovering. His second news was the message. The Tallyman was still the priority. Flesh was escalating. Tallulah Murn was improvising now, either because someone was pulling her strings harder or because someone had stopped holding the leash at all. Greta did not want the party wasting itself against the High Techitions unless there was no other choice. Lawful was complicated, not useless. The people on the street might help. Many of them were decent, overworked, and overruled. The council above them had been blocking forged investigations for months, and Wisdom Division was being displayed for public reassurance instead of being used for private truth. Greta's instructions were not heroic. They were survival instructions. Keep the mission moving. Keep the team intact. Keep the worst truths buried long enough to control them. And if Ash started glowing, Jonah started phoning, or Maine vanished, Oskar was to tell Greta immediately. The warehouse fight had ended, but the city had not become safer. It had become clearer.