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I answer immediately. "Five combat-ready. Three ward-capable. Four strong casualty movers. Two runners. One medical-trained. Two flexible."

"Command replacement?"

"Lena knows routes. Toren knows assignments."

"Why Lena?"

"She adapts." Vayne looks at her. Then me. "Good."

My chest does something strange. Ignore.

"New protocol." He says. "Nobody sleeps without an active watch." There. Someone behind me exhales sharply.

"Even shared rooms?" I ask.

"Especially shared rooms." That lands.

"How many awake?"

"Minimum one per room."

"Rotations?"

"Two hours."

"First-years?"

"Same." I nod. Vayne turns away.

"Professor." He stops. "The roommates."

"What about them."

"Were they magically sedated?"

"No evidence."

"Compelled?"

"No evidence."

"Memory altered?"

"No evidence."

"Then how did nobody wake up?"

Vayne looks at me. For once, he doesn't have an answer. "I don't know."

I hate that more than anything.

By nine, we see the room. Not because we're supposed to. Because First-Year Response is moved through East Residence to establish secondary evacuation routes. Tavian's door is open. Council investigators inside. I slow. Only slightly.

Three beds. Small room. Smaller than ours. Tavian's is beside the wall. Another bed maybe six feet away. Third near the window. Feet. They were feet away.

His blanket is folded back. Not ripped. No blood. No damage. No obvious residue. Nothing.

I stop walking. Lena nearly hits me. "Sorry."