The first rays of dawn bled through the library windows, casting long shadows across the resolute faces of the group. The air crackled with a nervous energy, a volatile mixture of hope and dread. Eleanor, her blue eyes burning with an unwavering determination, addressed them one last time.
"Remember the plan," she said, her voice firm. "We create a diversion. The….Fox will draw the Deucalion's attention. While Michael and I…" she paused, her gaze lingering on him for a fleeting moment, "…try to retrieve its blood."
Michael, though his youthful face betrayed a flicker of fear, straightened his shoulders and met her gaze with a nod. A silent understanding passed between them. They were in this together, two warriors on the precipice of a desperate gamble.
