Jelo stammered, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words that wouldn't come. His mind was racing, panic setting in as he tried to figure out what to say, how much to reveal, whether lying was even an option anymore.
Olmo's eyes narrowed slightly, and he cut through Jelo's hesitation with a single, firm statement. "We'll talk. Alone. Once we're back at the academy."
His tone made it clear the subject was serious. There was no room for negotiation, no possibility of brushing this off or changing the subject. Olmo's voice carried the weight of authority, but also something else—concern, maybe, or wariness. Whatever Jelo was, Olmo needed to know, and he wasn't going to let this slide.
Jelo swallowed hard and nodded, unable to meet Olmo's gaze. His stomach twisted with anxiety. What would he even say? How could he explain something he barely understood himself?
Before anything else could happen, Atlas woke.
