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"Increase ward monitoring."

"Then?"

"Move exposed students inside."

"Then?"

I pause. "Don't chase whatever they're sensing." His eyes meet mine. Theryn. Exactly.

"Good."

By evening, every Wing knows the protocol. By dinner, rumors have transformed it into: DRAGONS CAN SEE HOLLOWBORN. Wrong. Nyra nearly has an aneurysm. "They cannot see them." She says for the fifth time.

Cassian eats soup. "You should make a sign."

"They detect something before our instruments."

"Sign."

"That distinction matters."

"Large sign." She glares. I barely hear them.

Across the room, Rhyven is at the Chiefs' table. Working through dinner. Again. At least he's eating.

I check. Then hate myself for checking. He looks up. Catches me. I immediately return to my food. Subtle.

Later that night, Response Quarters are quieter. Not relaxed. Focused. A new chart hangs beside the exit.

Dragon behavior indicators. Ward escalation thresholds. Emergency responses. Tomorrow, we do it all again. Cassian drops into the chair beside me. "I'm exhausted."

"Useful."

He looks offended. "You've all become monsters."

"Your trace findings were important today." Nyra says.

Cassian goes still. Then looks at her. "Was that praise?"

"No."

"Sounded like praise."

"Don't ruin it." I smile. Apparently Rhyven is infecting everyone.

Cassian turns toward me. "What did it feel like?"

"What."

"Oren's blood."

I think. Disturbed pathways. Magic present but unable to move properly. "It felt like a road after an earthquake."

He frowns. "Broken?"

"No."

"Then?"