ДА!
(wонǝvǝε ʚ qvǝɯɐɓǝdu)

‘Its jurisdiction extends far beyond your ability to conceive, alchemist. You have committed crimes of such monstrous elegance that even the gods themselves grow uneasy. Look – see – they sit in judgement of you.’ A too-long finger drifted upwards, and Fabius followed the gesture. He looked up, and something looked down.

It was not a face, for a face was a thing of limits and angles, and what he saw had neither. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, as if it were one with the whole of the sky and the firmament above. Things that might have been eyes, or distant moons or vast constellations of stars, looked down at him, and a gash in the atmosphere twisted like a lover’s smile. It studied him from an impossible distance, and he felt the sharp edge of its gaze cut through him, layer by layer. There was pain, in that gaze, and pleasure as well. Agony and ecstasy, inextricable and inseparable.

With great effort, he tore his gaze away. ‘There is nothing there,’ he snarled, his teeth cracking against each other. His hearts stuttered, suddenly losing their rhythm. He pounded at his chest, as internal defibrillators sent a charge of electricity shrieking through him. The chirurgeon flooded his system with tranquillisers, and he tapped shakily at his vambrace. A secondary solution of mild stimulants joined the tranquillisers, stabilising him. He ignored the urge to look up. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. ‘There is nothing there,’ he said again, tasting blood. ‘There are no gods. Only cold stars and the void.’

The pressure increased. Something whispered, deep within him. It scratched at the walls of his mind, trying to catch his attention. He ignored it. ‘No gods,’ he repeated. ‘Random confluence of celestial phenomena. Interdimensional disasters, echoing outwards through our perceptions. I think, therefore I am. They do not, so they are not.’ He met the Quaestor’s bland gaze unflinchingly. ‘Gods are for the weak. I am not weak.’

The Quaestor nodded expectantly. ‘No.’
Book Excerpt | Fabius Bile Clonelord

Я один не могу спокойно смотреть, как он держит лук?

Это у Кайлет имеешь ввиду? Она Аутарх, т.е. прошла несколько путей воинов (и получила преимущества этих путей), так что сильное пси-колдунство все же прерогатива видящих. Скорее она командир и лидер.

В ближнем бою скорее важно, чтобы мушка была сточена.

Вполне возможно. Челюсть смутила, но на некрона не похоже точно, сутулости нет и пучок на голове. Надо почитать "механикум" как-нибудь. Покрокодилил дальше.

Уж до чего я мимокрокодил, и то каллидус ассасина с некроном не спутаю. Некрона сами нагуглите.