Above the Eastern Cardinal, a small sized transport was in the air. It had the EDF insignia, two crossed blades over a shield in red and white on it. And a number beside it, 12.
Academy 12, Eastern Cardinal.
Inside, twenty-some students sat crammed into rows of hard bench seating, all of them dressed in matching white gis, belts of varying color knotted at their waists depending on rank, and the low murmur of confused chatter filled the cabin the way it always did whenever a routine class did something that wasn't routine at all.
"Since when does martial arts class take field trips," one boy muttered to the girl beside him, adjusting his belt for the third time in ten minutes out of pure nervous habit.
"Since never," she said. "This is weird. Master Anng's never done this before."
