"She is going to make it!"
John didn't know how he reached the infirmary. The memory of the journey was a blur of cold terror, a fever dream of sprinting through corridors that felt miles long.
The moment he arrived, he screamed with the full force of his lungs, his voice echoing off the walls of the small auxiliary building connected to the sparring halls.
The medic staff, seeing Cissel in his arms, shredded, bloody, and pale, didn't waste a second on questions. They moved fast, taking her from his trembling arms and disappearing into the depths of the facility. John remained rooted where they left him, standing motionless like a stone statue in front of the double white doors.
He stood there for over an hour, though he had no concept of time. Luke, Ben, and Elena had arrived, breathless and frantic, the moment the news reached the construction site. Nikolas followed, then the bald teacher and the scarred instructor.
