The iron door of the penitence cell scraped open as Raziel stood up from the cold stone floor and blinked against the light of the guard's torch.
He spent three days in darkness and his stomach cramped with hunger pains, but his tactical mind felt sharper than ever.
He secured the fifth Forbidden Gift in that pitch-black cell.
He possessed Anchor Blood now.
He walked out of the administrative wing and headed straight for the East Basement.
He did not stop at the refectory to eat a meal nor go to his dormitory room to wash the dirt and dried sweat from his face.
He felt Zorya waiting for him through their permanent bond.
Raziel unbolted the workshop door and stepped inside.
Zorya sat in a rigid wooden chair in the exact center of the room.
She already rolled her gray right sleeve up past her elbow.
She stared at the black suppression tattoo covering her scarred forearm.
"Are you ready?" Raziel asked.
He walked over to the wooden desk and picked up a piece of chalk.
