[Kratos waits with his hands loose and empty, gazing up at the sky, observing stars and constellations beyond even his sight, but which he knows so well they're old friends nevertheless. He doesn't move except to breathe, and even that is technically unnecessary, except as a matter of habit and courtesy that he doesn't alarm the Renegade guard more than absolutely necessary.

[Finally the door opens and Kratos turns his attention to the returning guard. He's empty-handed, which means the sword has been delivered; and the guard stops about twenty feet away to clear his throat.]

Lord Yuan grants you entry.

Thank you.

[No need not to be polite, after all. Kratos strides toward them, giving the young guards a nod as he passes through the entrance into the base proper. He doesn't need an escort; he knows the way to Yuan's room (and, really, a room furnished like that in a base in the middle of the desert? It's practically a giveaway right there). Nevertheless, he doesn't expect to be unguarded, and so pauses long enough for a couple of other Renegades to replace the guards at the door so they can escort him in.

[He walks, despite the escort, like he does know where he's going; and like he isn't being guarded; and like he isn't walking into the base of a group countering his leader at every turn. He walks like a visiting dignitary, like he should be there -- not like he shouldn't.]