The rankings board glowed in the dim office of Professor Anya Petrova, casting silver light across her pristine desk. The number one slot burned like an accusation.
ONYX HOUNDS - 847 POINTS
Below it, in what should have been their rightful place, sat the Argent Sentinels at 612.
Anya's crystalline Aspect flickered at her fingertips, tiny shards of ice forming and dissolving in rhythm with her barely controlled fury. She had built the Sentinels from nothing. Forged them into the perfect embodiment of everything a Hunter should be. Clean. Professional. Marketable.
And now they sat in second place behind a pack of mutts led by a boy who fought with a baseball bat.
Julian Valerius stood at attention before her desk, his posture impeccable despite the shadows carved beneath his eyes. Three weeks since the Necropolis incident. Three weeks since his world had crumbled around him. The golden prince looked more like tarnished bronze these days.
"You wanted to see me, Professor?"
