Dean ends the session, but he doesn't leave right away.
He stays a few seconds at the edge of the arena, looking at the dead screen as if some order were still pending there.
The bleachers are still full. An inexperienced Diver's curiosity often leads him to ruin. This time they're lucky it's a public, civilized place. Cadets whisper in small groups. Instructors pretend to organize panels and reports, but their eyes come back to us whenever they can.
Dean notices the murmur. "Freya," he calls. "Mira. Kellan. With me."
Freya doesn't answer at once.
She's a few steps ahead, still at the border between arena and side corridor, her face controlled, her classic ice aura pulled in completely. Mira rolls her shoulder once, glances at Oliver from a distance, and follows. Kellan goes after her without a word.
Freya lets out a heavy sigh, long enough to make clear that obeying wasn't agreeing, but she follows.
