Tony walked to the carved, stone-like doors and pushed them open, "You coming?" He gestured to Alex then they entered.
Behind the double doors was a dark, cold, and ancient hall that seemed to stretch on forever.
The two followed Prince's instructions and stopped in front of a door that had the word 'Principal' written on it with golden, cursive letters.
Alex pushed the heavy oak door open, half-expecting to see a wizard with a long beard. Instead, he found a man in a suit so sharp it could probably cut through the tension in the room.
The office was a weird mix of old-money library and sci-fi command center. Wood-paneled walls were covered in glowing holographic maps, and in a glass case on the desk was what looked like a chunk of rock-like skin the size of a dinner plate. A Walker's hide.
The man behind the desk didn't look up. A tiny, shimmering model of the solar system was slowly orbiting his head, Mercury and Venus weaving between his fingers as he steepled them.
Tony, for once, was silent.
"Alexander Song. Anthony Ballor." The man's voice was calm, but it filled the room. The planets didn't even wobble. "Sit. And do well to leave your… luggage outside my office, please."
They dropped their luggage outside and sat. The chairs were even softer than the limousine's.
"I trust your journey was adequate," the man said, finally looking up. His eyes were a pale, piercing gray. "The pretzels on that airline are a particular... acquired taste."
Alex's blood ran cold. 'He knows'. The thought was instant, a jolt of pure panic. 'He knows about the pretzels. What else does he know?'
"I am Dr. Aris Thorne," the man said, a miniature Jupiter drifting past his ear. "You are here because this institution has an interest in catalysts. In pressure."
He gestured with a finger, and Mars did a little loop. "You represent a specific, raw resourcefulness, Alexander. And you, Anthony, represent purchased potential. Throwing you into a crucible with our refined products, like Miss Layla, creates a reaction. We are here to observe the results."
'Products.' He talked about them like they were lab rats. Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Your collaborative exercise begins tomorrow," Dr. Thorne continued, his tone making it clear this was not a request. "You will be taken to the Quarantine Sector's maximum observation deck."
A live feed flickered to life on the main wall screen, showing a containment cell. Inside was a creature. It was the size of a large dog, but built like a hairless, emaciated wolf, with too many joints in its legs and a single, milky-white eye in the center of its head. It paced on long, claw-tipped fingers, a low, guttural clicking sound emanating from its body.
"A Category 0 Walker. Codename: 'Stray'," Dr. Thorne said, as if introducing a pet. "Significantly less destructive than its larger cousins, but faster, more agile, and uniquely... perceptive."
The Stray stopped its pacing. It tilted its head, and that single, pupil-less eye seemed to stare directly through the camera. Directly at them.
Alex felt a chill. It was nothing like the towering Titans on the news. This thing was a predator you could meet in a dark alley.
"Your teams for this exercise have been designed for maximum pedagogical effect," Dr. Thorne continued. "Anthony, you will be partnered with Prince. Your role is to enter the simulation and subdue the Walker."
Tony's eyes widened slightly, a mix of fear and excitement at the prospect of working directly with the polished, powerful Prince.
Dr. Thorne's pale eyes then settled, with deliberate weight, on Alex. "And you, Alexander, will be partnered with Layla. Your team will be in the observation deck. You will have one hour to analyze its behavior and provide a strategic analysis to the field team."
He let his words hang in the air.
The doctor's eyes conveyed indifference, "Whatever you decipher—accurate or otherwise—will determine the result."
"Succeed, and you demonstrate that primal intellect has a place on the battlefield, even without a Beast Art." His pale eyes settled on Alex. "Fail... and you will have a front-row seat to the consequences. Your accommodations are prepared. I suggest you use the time to mentally prepare."
The meeting was over. The solar system kept spinning. They were dismissed.
As they stepped back into the cavernous hall, the heavy door clicking shut behind them like a seal, Tony let out a shaky breath as they picked up their luggage. "He knew about your pretzel scene."
Alex wasn't listening. His mind was racing, replaying the principal's piercing gaze. The pretzels were the least of his worries.
If he knew about something as light as his desire for the pretzels on the plane, what else did he know?
'What are these people playing at?' All of a sudden, Alex felt like being home and raising suspicion about the murder was safer than being here. At least he knew where the danger was.
'He most likely also knows about the little 'squabble' between us and his students. I can't imagine he'd be too happy about it.'
Tony himself was mumbling something under his breath, occasionally letting out a stifled curse.
'I am not even sure practicing my beast art here is a good idea. It could get me caught.' He instinctively looked at his bag where the one thing that could incarcerate him was.
Alex and Tony put their thoughts aside at roughly the same time. Worrying would only impede them. They had to prepare for the next day.