The War Room was dimly lit, a soft electric hum vibrating through the walls from the maps and screens lining the space. Data scrolled silently: enemy positions, heat signatures, timestamps of recent incursions. Every breath in the room seemed to echo, as if the Academy itself were holding it.

At the far end of the room, standing still as a statue, was Eito. Sapphire eyes flicked between enemy coordinates and teammate tags with eerie precision, his hands folded behind his back in a posture all too stiff for someone so typically friendly as him.

For a moment, he didn’t acknowledge any other presence in the room. When he did, it was with a slow, deliberate turn of the head — just enough to show that he’d noticed, not enough to truly face the intrusion.

"Oh. You're here too... That’s good. Things are always better when we’re not alone, right?"

A half-smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Something behind them flickered. A too-long blink, a twitch of calculation. The map light caught the glint in his gaze in a way that felt wrong.

"I was just analyzing their formation. It's strange: they're moving with too much intention, like they know where to hit us next. But don't worry. We'll get through it. We always do. Together."

He chuckled softly, the kind of laugh you'd use to warm a room. But the air only grew colder.