"Everyone, to your stations. We leave in ten minutes."
Every participant scattered the moment the announcement ended, each group rushing to their assigned training rooms to gear up.
Willow tightened the last strap of her sword sling, sliding the blade into its sheath across her back. After securing it, she pressed herself against the cool metal of the locker, forcing a slow breath into her lungs.
She had to survive.
Sage caught the sound of her exhale and glanced over her shoulder. "You're nervous now?" She scoffed and shoved two pistols into the holster before tossing a larger gun into the open crate. "I thought you were the calm one."
Willow didn't bother answering. Her eyes drifted to Milo who was sitting on the bench, lacing up his boots with that infuriatingly blank expression. He was not angry. He was not scared. Not anything.
Just… quiet.
It worried her more than if he were panicking.
The door hissed open.
