Some gambles are worth risking everything.
The dormitory transmission cut to static. Twenty students gone. Dead because I'd hesitated, because I'd calculated instead of acted, because leadership meant impossible mathematics that left corpses in its wake.
Through our bond, Darius's grief matched my own. But underneath ran tactical awareness that the battle wasn't stopping for mourning. Enemy forces were still advancing. More students would die if the command center became paralyzed by guilt.
"Elara." Caleb's voice cut through my shock—sharp, urgent. "We have another situation. Marcus's team is pinned at the northern quad. Strike Team Alpha. They're cut off. Enemy forces are moving to surround them."
The tactical displays updated, showing seven students trapped between advancing enemies and a collapsed defensive position. The same scenario. The same impossible mathematics.
Save them and pull defenders from critical positions.
