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"I hate you."

"No, you don't." Dangerous man. His eyes move toward the board. "Ninety-four isn't because you knew what to do." I think of the other night. Leadership. Deciding. Moving.

"It's because I kept deciding."

Rhyven's gaze returns to mine. "Yes." Something settles inside me. Not pride exactly. Something sturdier.

"What if I decide wrong?" I ask.

Rhyven is quiet. Then– "Correct."

"What?"

"After."

"That's terrible advice."

"It's the only advice."

I think about the eastern courtyard. The forty seconds. My position at the ward. Three simulated deaths. Every mistake still sitting in my head. Good.

They should.

Rhyven pushes away from the railing. "Eat."

"I already had an apple."

"That's not food."

"It is literally food."

"Not enough."

"There he is." He ignores me. Starts walking. I follow.

Not because he told me to eat. Mostly.

Behind us, the readiness board remains crowded. Green. Amber. Red. Students celebrating. Students disappointed. Some angry. Some frightened. Nobody thinks examinations are ridiculous anymore. Not really. Because this wasn't about passing a class. It wasn't even about proving what we learned. It was about discovering what happens when everything we learned stops working. When the weapon disappears. When the dominant hand fails. When the ward breaks. When the Chief is gone. When the plan becomes useless. When people look at you anyway.

I thought readiness meant knowing what to do. It doesn't. Rhyven knew that before I did. Readiness is knowing enough to start. And being willing to change when you're wrong. Today, I scored ninety-four. Second among first-years. Green. Operational. Ready.

I don't feel ready. Maybe that's part of it too. Because if the day ever comes when there is no Chief standing in front of me, no professor telling me which corridor to defend, no Rhyven waiting somewhere nearby to correct what I missed, I know what I have to do. Decide. Move. Adapt. And keep everyone else moving with me.

Chapter Fifty-six

The order arrives without ceremony. No alarm. No Council summons. No dragon landing at sunrise.

Just a sheet of paper placed outside every Chief's room before breakfast. By seven, everyone knows. Not because the notice is public. Because nothing stays private in North Residence for more than six minutes. CONTINGENCY COMMAND PREPARATION. I read the title twice. Then the first line. All Chief Wings Officers are required to establish temporary command structures capable of maintaining Wing operations in the event of deployment, incapacitation or extended absence.

There it is. Deployment. Not hypothetical anymore. Not really. Nyra stands beside me in the corridor.

Cassian has joined us wearing one boot. I don't ask.

Caelen's door is open across the hall. Rhyven is inside. Neither is speaking. That bothers me.

"Extended absence." Cassian says.

"Could mean anything." Nyra looks at him.