Blair stood alone in her Summit House living room, fingers pressed against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The campus spread below her like a game board. Students moved between buildings in their color-coded uniforms. Red for Ruby. Blue for Sapphire. Black and grey for Obsidian.

Insects. All of them. Following their predictable little patterns while she watched from above.

Her reflection stared back at her from the window. Platinum blonde hair falling in perfect waves past her shoulders. Diamond earrings catching the morning light. Black blazer tailored so precisely it looked painted on. White silk blouse with exactly one button undone at the collar.

Perfect. Controlled. Untouchable.

The doorbell’s expensive chime echoed through the pristine space.

Blair smoothed invisible wrinkles from her blazer and checked the hallway mirror one final time. Everything in place. Everything as it should be.

She opened the door.

Misato stood on the threshold in her standard academy uniform. The lime green tie sat slightly crooked. Dark hair pulled back in that same practical ponytail she’d worn since freshman year. Those unsettling green eyes met Blair’s without flinching.

"You called."

"I did." Blair stepped aside. "Come in."

Misato entered and glanced around the living space. Her expression stayed neutral but something tightened around her eyes. Judgment maybe. Or calculation.

"Nice place."

"It serves its purpose." Blair gestured toward the leather couch near the fireplace. "Sit. We need to talk."

"About my squad beating yours." Misato remained standing. Her weight settled evenly between both feet. "About first place. About how that lottery kid somehow broke Charles Leone’s pull-up record."

Heat flashed through Blair’s chest. The memory surfaced without permission. Monroe’s transformed body moving through those exercises. Muscles she’d sworn didn’t exist two weeks ago flexing under that too-tight academy shirt. His amber eyes meeting hers across the field with something that looked almost like amusement.

"We’re not discussing Monroe."

"Then what are we discussing?"

Blair moved to her bar cart and poured herself two fingers of whiskey. Japanese single malt. Twenty years aged. The bottle alone cost more than most students spent on textbooks. She didn’t offer Misato anything.

"We’re taking a trip to the mainland today."

Misato’s posture shifted. Shoulders squaring. Feet spacing apart just slightly. The subtle adjustment of someone preparing for a fight.

"Your father."

"My father." Blair took a sip. The whiskey burned perfectly. Smoke and oak and controlled fire. "He wants to meet with me. Discuss performance metrics. Team coordination. Standard evaluation procedures."

"Bullshit."

Blair’s hand tightened around the crystal tumbler. The carved glass bit into her palm.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Misato crossed her arms. The gesture changed her silhouette. Made her look broader. More immovable. "Johnathan Davenport doesn’t waste time on standard anything. He wants intelligence. Information. Details about Monroe that he can’t get through official channels."

Smart girl. Too smart for her own good sometimes.

"You work for me." Blair kept each word measured and controlled. Precision over volume. "I pay your stipend. I cover your academy expenses. I made sure you got into this program."

She paused. Let the next words carry their own weight.

"Despite everything else."

"Despite being from the slums, you mean."

"Despite having zero guild connections and a mother with a criminal record." Blair finished her whiskey. Set the glass down with deliberate precision. The crystal rang softly against marble. "You owe me everything, Misato. Your education. Your future. Your entire career."

Misato laughed. "Is that supposed to scare me? Make me grateful?"

"It’s supposed to remind you who signs your checks."

"And it’s supposed to remind you that I earned first place. My squad earned it." Misato stepped closer. "We didn’t cheat. We didn’t buy our way in. We worked for it."

Blair felt the careful mask she wore around everyone else start cracking at the edges.

"Your squad," she repeated. "You mean Monroe’s squad. The lottery kid who somehow convinced you to abandon everything I’ve given you for what? Friendship?"

"For respect." Misato’s voice stayed level but something dangerous flickered in those green eyes. "Something you’ve never understood."

"I understand plenty." Blair moved around the kitchen island. Put distance between them before she did something stupid. "I understand that Monroe is playing games with forces he can’t comprehend. I understand that my father has questions that need answers."

"And you want me to provide those answers."

"I want you to do your job."

"My job is keeping my squad alive. Not spying for someone who can’t handle losing."

Blair’s fingers found the counter edge. Gripped hard enough that her knuckles went white.

"Careful, Misato. You’re forgetting your place."

"My place?" Misato’s laugh turned sharp. "My place is with my squad. The people who trust me. Who don’t treat me like an asset to be managed."

"Those people will get you killed. Monroe especially." Blair’s voice came out tighter than she’d intended. "He’s not what he appears to be. Something about him is wrong. Off. My father will figure out what."

"And if he doesn’t find anything?"

"He will."

Misato studied her for a long moment. Those calculating eyes taking in every detail. Blair felt exposed under that gaze. Like all her secrets were written across her face in permanent marker.

"You’re scared," Misato said finally.

"I’m practical."

"You’re terrified that the lottery kid might actually be better than you."

Heat exploded through Blair’s system. Her vision went white at the edges.

"Better than me?" Her voice cracked like a whip. "That pathetic waste of space? That nobody from nowhere who couldn’t run a mile without collapsing two weeks ago?"

"The same nobody who’s transforming into something that makes you wake up at night." Misato’s smile turned predatory. "The same nobody who beat your squad fair and square."

Blair’s hand moved before she could stop it. The slap caught Misato across the cheek with enough force to snap her head sideways.

Silence stretched between them.

Misato touched her cheek slowly. When she looked back at Blair, her expression had gone completely cold.

"Feel better?"