Thaumaturgy Shift

The armoured tower at the blade's rear spine held the cockpit, Grak's domain — a short reinforced column rising from the dorsal surface, wide enough for the pilot station and the neural interface assembly and the wrap of viewports that gave Grak the forward-arc visibility he considered a professional minimum. Dylan passed the base of the tower ladder on his way through the aft corridor, then past the narrow stretch where Grak had, for reasons Dylan had never fully excavated, stencilled a small and extremely precise stylised crow onto the bulkhead at exactly five feet from the deck. Eye-level for Grak when he descended the tower ladder. Dylan ducked slightly to read it each time he passed, out of something that wasn't quite solidarity and wasn't quite affection but lived in the same neighbourhood as both.