In what seemed like a blink of an eye, Cornellio—and the people he had around to run his errands—turned the breakfast room into something much more appropriate for a briefing, with paper for notes in front of everyone and a big whiteboard where he wrote what we knew or planned.
This guy certainly liked his organising.
It wasn't without benefits, though. There's certainly was a lot to discuss. This wasn't a situation where the immediate course of action was clear, and not even a situation where immediate action was possible. We didn't know where our enemy was, or when he would strike again, nor where.
"He can teleport. How can we catch someone who can teleport?" I asked, addressing no one in particular.
