The chamber was dead silent.
"What exactly happened to the Omegas, Headmaster? The council records from that era are remarkably... incomplete. Almost as if someone wanted to erase them from memory."
Twilson's face had gone pale. "That was before my time—"
"But not before your mentor's time. Emory was quite active in council affairs thirty years ago, wasn't she? Around the same time the last Omegas vanished?"
"I don't see what that has to do with—"
"You just said Omegas were eliminated for a reason." Tomlinson's eyes were cold. "What reason, exactly? And who did the eliminating?"
The silence stretched.
I watched Twilson's face cycle through emotions—anger, fear, calculation. He'd said too much. Revealed too much. And now he was scrambling to recover.
"The historical record is clear that Omegas posed significant risks to pack stability," he said finally. "Their influence was considered too great, too uncontrollable—"
"So the council killed them."
The words hung in the air.
"That's not—I didn't say—"
"You said eliminated. You said it was done for a reason." Tomlinson stepped closer. "If they were simply dangerous, they would have been contained. Managed. The way we manage ferals. But they weren't managed, were they? They were erased. Hunted down and destroyed, along with anyone who might remember what they were."
Twilson's mask was fully gone now. Underneath was something ugly. Desperate.
"This is ancient history. What matters is the present—"
"The present where you're trying to do the same thing to Miss Orlav?" Tomlinson raised an eyebrow. "Remove her from the program. Relocate the ferals. Launch an investigation. It sounds remarkably like the first steps of another elimination."
"I'm trying to protect this institution—"
"You're trying to protect the your power." Tomlinson turned back to the chamber. "Omegas weren't eliminated because they were dangerous. They were eliminated because they were uncontrollable. Because their bonds couldn't be severed. Because wolves who bonded to them became impossible to manipulate."
He let that sink in.
"The old council's authority rested on the ability to control wolves. To sever bonds when necessary. To move people around like pieces on a board." His eyes found mine briefly before returning to Twilson. "Omegas threatened that authority. So they were destroyed. And now, thirty years later, when one finally emerges again, the Headmaster's first instinct is to call an emergency session and demand her removal."
"That's not—"
"Isn't it?"
The chamber was stirring now. Council members exchanging glances. Whispered conversations spreading through the tiered seating. Twilson's narrative was crumbling, and everyone could see it.
Dr. Derrow stood.
"This session will recess for one hour," she announced. "When we reconvene, I expect civil discourse and evidence-based arguments. Personal attacks and historical speculation will not be tolerated." Her eyes swept the room. "From anyone."
The gavel fell.
People began filing out, but the whispers followed them. I caught fragments as they passed.
"—eliminated, he actually said—"
"—Tomlinson has a point—"
"—the data does show improvement—"
