Winnoen was here. The dust - still alive in the air, the bones - still red where they broke, the buildings - looming toward the courtyard; all these things spoke of her passing. The smell of ozone hinted at her means. The lack of sound to her thorough nature. She had taken her time. The cabal scout nearest to the central plinth of the ruin had been stripped of armor down to the joints with which it had been fused to the creature's skeleton. Then it had been slagged until the blood boiled into the air and the nano in its veins had oozed in rivulets through the rust-colored sand. I knew this because Winnoen had taken none of these things with her. They were stacked, fused together in a macabre warning to the others. A warning that they clearly had not heeded. Three Juggernauts in various states of... not death, exactly. Disassembly. Methodical, surgical. She had removed armor, an eye, and just the front - Ghost says 3.4277 centimeters - of the creature's brain, up to the point where it stood, gaping, drooling, unaware of me or anything else. It would not move until it starved to death. The other two were worse. I envied her dispassion. Following in her footsteps, knowing it took me just a fraction of the time to pass through a given hunting ground than it took her, a fear grew in my mind. The Traveler had blessed her, same as me. And where I was conflicted, she was merciless. Where my marks felt nothing, she made hers suffer. And blessed she remained. I have learned all I need to. Ghost tells me that I have been in this ruin for two hours. Not long enough. At this rate, I will catch my sister.