The request came the next morning.
Formal. Clean. Unavoidable.
Vineyard's command hall was full when Snow Team assembled, its stone walls catching the low murmur of voices that cut off the moment Victor stepped inside. The mood was different this time. No testing glances. No posturing.
Respect.
Victor did not slow when he entered. He never did. The room adjusted around him automatically, the way a current bends around stone in deep water.
Damien moved half a step behind him. Not beside him. Never beside him. The placement was deliberate.
Voss entered last.
Which meant everyone in the room understood the order without needing it spoken.
Victor.
Damien.
Voss.
Hierarchy settled into the space like gravity. Felicity followed between them.
And somehow she still managed to look like sunlight had wandered into a war room.
