The midday sky looked calm or at least, that's what Sylvia thought.
From her bedroom balcony, she could see the frozen plains glittering faintly under the pale sun. No storms, no grim reports from her troops, and for a fleeting moment she truly believed today would end like the others: buried in documents, interrupted only by warm tea, then soaking in the hot bath.
She had just reached for her porcelain cup when something struck her consciousness.
A voice not through her ears, but echoing directly inside her mind.
"Sylvia…! Can you hear me?!"
Stacia's voice, frantic, laced with panic.
Another followed, thinner but equally strained.
"Sylvia! We ngh…!" Alicia's voice, breaking, rattled with fear.
Sylvia froze. The cup in her hand trembled, nearly spilling.
"Stacia? Alicia?" she whispered, as if her voice could pierce through telepathy.
