The metal bands strapped to their wrists vibrated in perfect unison exactly at the eighth hour on a Thursday morning. The agonizing three-week waiting period had finally expired. This was how the Academy handled intelligence it wanted the entire third-year class to process simultaneously.
Vane felt his pulse spike against the metal before he even tapped the glass screen.
The bustling kitchen of the villa plunged into a sudden, suffocating silence. It was not a peaceful quiet. It was the heavy, loaded sound of four different people opening their official squad assignments at the exact same moment, each of them silently absorbing a completely different set of terrifying stakes.
Ashe read her screen quickly. She turned her wristband face down against the wooden table. "Hm," she murmured. It was a dark, dangerous sound that clearly indicated she possessed a violent opinion she had absolutely no intention of sharing before breakfast.
