The serenity of night blanketed Blackthorn College, but a hurricane was forming outside. Avery felt a heavy strain in the air, pressing down on her chest. As she stepped into the quad, her gaze swept the grounds, observing persons moving in the shadows, their presence overly structured and planned. An unsettling sensation slid across her skin—they had been attacked.
The lights throughout campus flickered, and a screeching siren broke the calm. Doors banged, footfall reverberated, and the normally tranquil corridors of Blackthorn devolved into turmoil. Avery's mind raced, her instincts taking over as she watched Lucas approaching her, his face set with grim determination.
"They're here," he said, out of breath but ready for action. "Damien's faction, the Visionary's followers, and those mercenaries... they're all converging."
A cold went down her spine. "They all?" Working collectively?"
