Lion Head Mesa twenty-second

Senmut outlined the parts he might be called upon to play. Atreus wouldn’t call himself particularly great at any of those things, though he would be happy to try. He nodded along at each role—advisor, companion, spy—but froze a little abruptly at the last one. A what now?

Before Atreus could fully compute or ask what was meant by that, Senmut drew back, clearly intending to disembark on some other errand. Atreus’s lips parted but pressed together again at another severe look from the Hem.

Atreus could only offer, Protect Makono, by any means necessary. Got it.