tapped it and said: "Remember that you have to say the full name of the recipient. We registered your device under 'James Dalton'. Nicknames also don't work with these devices, but middle names aren't registered either. Unless there's someone else with the same name as you."

Even though she's standing four metres in front of me, it's like she's speaking directly into my ear. I tapped my ear again, and winced when a sharp click caught me off guard.

Aránzazu checked her watch. "Real and Albert wants you in the War Room by 5. We have enough time to show you the mess hall. It's at the top floor."

The mess hall turned out to be a giant cafeteria with large all-you-can-eat buffet tables lining three walls of the room, but only one table is filled with food. The tables and benches there could've seated thousands of people, yet only around two hundred are actually in the mess hall. They're scattered sparsely around the room, either in small groups or alone. The sadness in this room was so heavy it's suffocating.

"There used to be at least three thousand people here during the lunch rush," Aránzazu said. "Mostly Invicti and refugees. Now...we have barely four hundred people left."

"What happened?" I asked, a little scared to hear the answer, but curiousity won.

Aránzazu bowed her head. "You might've noticed that most of the Invicti here are eighteen or younger, and that's because the older ones have left to fight in the war. As for refugees, they left for more secure camps."

I was right, I didn't want to hear the answer. I tried to change the topic. "What are Invicti?"

"That's what we call the human foot soldiers of the Elemental Alliance like Harold and Real. They're training for the front lines since they were infants," Aránzazu said. Her eyes wandered to the other people in the mess hall. "Must be nice to be an Invictus." Her tone was almost wistful.

"Aren't you an Invicti?" I asked.

"Invictus, singular," she corrected. "Anyways, the food here is made by some refugees who stayed and wanted to repay the kindness we've shown to them. They're mostly from foreign planets, but their food is edible for humans."

"Don't change the subject," I said.

"Mind your own business," she warned, turning around and going to one of the tables. 

Annoyed, I lunged forward and grabbed her arm. "Did something happen?" I asked. "Did you not want to become an Invictus or-"

I yelped and backed off. A knife flew out of Aránzazu's wrist and she caught it by the hilt with tips of her fingers, stopping the blade millimetres from my throat.

"Don't stick your nose in places where it doesn't belong, James," Aránzazu growled. "You have no idea what it's like. Getting Albert to train me in secret instead of Lincoln or Clare. Not going on any missions because I'm too 'unprepared'. You have no idea how badly I want to be an...an..." She caught herself and took a deep breath, swiftly withdrawing her knife from my throat and sheathing it back in her wrist.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled to the ground, avoiding my eyes. "Go meet Real and Albert without me, and don't tell them about this conversation, ever."

Cautiously, I slowly nodded and began making my way to the War Room. 

"And James?" I turned around nervously.

 Aránzazu was looking at me now.

"You're right, something did happen," Aránzazu spoke like she's spitting out venom. "And that taught me one thing: don't ever trust Mira."

With that, she turned around and left.