The Private Training Hall in the West Wing cost a small fortune to rent. It was a reinforced concrete bunker designed for heavy-impact squad tactics, lined with mana-dampening wards to prevent accidental structural collapse.
Vane stood by the heavy iron door, his arms crossed. He looked at his team.
Valerica stood in the center, adjusting her black gloves. She looked like a queen waiting for a duel.
Ashe was pacing near the wall, vibrating with impatient energy. She looked like a tiger in a cage.
Isole was standing perfectly still, her mismatched eyes tracing invisible geometric lines in the air. She looked like she was solving an equation that didn't exist yet.
'On paper,' Vane thought, 'this is the strongest squad in the history of the First Year. Four Elites. Four Authorities. We should be untouchable.'
He pulled the lever on the wall.
The floor in the center of the arena groaned and split open. A massive lift rose from the darkness, carrying a Siege Golem.
