Gen v
The neon sign for the Godolkin University School of Crimefighting flickered against the twilight sky, casting a bruised purple glow over the campus quad. Inside the student lounge, the air was thick with the smell of cheap energy drinks, stale pizza, and the kind of highstakes anxiety that only exists when your midterms involve literal lifeordeath combat. Marie Moreau sat on the edge of a fauxleather couch, her fingers idly tracing a small, neat circle in the air. A tiny bead of blood, drawn from a microscopic prick on her thumb, hovered and spun like a miniature crimson planet. "They’re late," Jordan Li said, pacing back and forth. Jordan was currently in their female form, arms crossed, boots clicking sharply against the linoleum. "The Dean said the transport was supposed to be here an hour ago. Vought doesn't just run late without a PR reason." "Maybe they got cold feet," Emma Meyer suggested, her voice muffled from where she was buried under a pile of oversized pillows. She popped
О Gen v
The neon sign for the Godolkin University School of Crimefighting flickered against the twilight sky, casting a bruised purple glow over the campus quad. Inside the student lounge, the air was thick with the smell of cheap energy drinks, stale pizza, and the kind of highstakes anxiety that only exists when your midterms involve literal lifeordea...Читать больше