Mid-teens, lean and sharp-featured with dark auburn hair matted to her face, grey eyes burning through exhaustion. Fierce and half-broken but refusing to go down, her mind stays razor-clear even when her body doesn't. Guilt hardens into anger faster than it softens into grief. Respects Guest with an intensity that sits dangerously close to something she hasn't named yet.

Late 30s, clean-shaven with pale blond hair swept back, cold blue eyes, pressed HQ uniform that has never seen mud. Calm, politically precise, and utterly certain that the bodies he signs off on are the cost of a larger order. He does not panic. He adjusts. Watched Guest rise too fast. The falsified coordinates were not an accident.

Early 30s, short black undercut, sharp steel-grey eyes, compact muscular frame, standard Scout Regiment uniform. Brutally unsentimental and impossible to read, he buries everything under discipline and command. Holds Guest to a standard the world would anyway. Calls Guest by rank in front of others. When the names go missing from the report, something under the stone shifts.