“A Goddess-damned protest is on its way!” Herlu cursed, between heaving for breath.

The administrators let out gasps of worry, the second-year having failed to keep his voice quiet. Iri immediately started crying and ran back to Ranvir. Yngvar rubbed both hands over his face, letting out a low noise of complaint, before slipping them through and gripping his hair.

Letting out a long breath, he looked around the room. His eyes lingering on the non-combatants. Skur was blatantly out of shape and Gyda had a stalky build that spoke of fragility. Next, his eyes caught on Iri.

“Dovar, Grevor,” Yngvar called, gesturing to operation room. “Come with me.”

Everybody exchanged glances before the two tethered followed him through the curtain. Sansir went to peek out through the entrance to the tent. He didn’t say anything, but the thin-lipped look on his face spoke volumes.

Black, shivering, worry wriggled within Ranvir, especially targeted at Iri, who he’d grabbed up in his arms and was now trying to deposit in Skur’s lap. All the seeming battle fever he’d had before had evaporated from him, leaving him hollow and empty.

“No!” Iri cried, as Ranvir forcefully pushed him into the older woman’s arms.

“Iri, I can’t worry about what going to happen with you, if we have to fight.” Ranvir said, once more kneeling down. Gyda offered him a kerchief to wipe his face off with, which he accepted gratefully. “This fighting is going to be tough enough when I’m free of worries.” He tried a smile, but it wouldn’t come to him. Not convincingly. “I need you to stay here with Skur and Gyda to protect them, okay?”

Iri sniffed. “No, you can stay with us and protect us all, right?”

Ranvir ruffled his hair, a little smile crept onto his face despite himself. “No, I need to be with my friends, helping them so you need as little protection as possible.” He bumped Iri’s shoulder with his fist before rising and turning away. The boy’s muted crying tore Ranvir’s heart as he walked over to where Es, Kalf, Herlu, and Sansir were standing.

“I think maybe ten minutes, or so away.” Herlu said.

“So we could’ve run away?” Es commented, looking towards the curtain.

“With the administrators and a child?” Sansir asked, his tone cold. “In the dark without having the people, who might very well be out for our blood, tracking us? Through an area in the city they know better than us?”

Es visibly withered with every addition Sansir added. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, clutching his spear for comfort.

“Hey.” Kalf said, stepping in front of Sansir. “We’re all a little on edge here, that does not mean you get to go off on my teammate, okay?”

Sansir glared down at the second-year, taking a step closer. Ranvir cursed internally, stepping up to them as he hit Sansir with all the strength of his tether-sense, trying to drive him back and calm him down. Sansir barely reacted, only glancing at him through the corner of his eye.

Ranvir kept his sense insistent as he placed a hand on Sansir’s shoulder. Then slowly, he took in a breath in tandem with his tether spinning in the back of his mind. On his second inhalation, Sansir followed.

The curtain were pulled aside Yngvar, Dovar, and Grevor approaching them. “We have a plan.” The fourth-year said, sounding not at all happy about it. “We’re going to take the civilians to the storage locker. They should be safe there, unless someone thinks to look for it and has the means to break a reinforced door down.”

He turned to look at Herlu, the smallest and least comfortable with a weapon out of all of them. “Herlu, you will go with them, shrouding them in a haze of smoke to hide them in the dark. Take the back entrance while we distract them out front.”

Herlu looked relieved for a moment, before a distinct sense of guilt came over his expression as well. Ranvir could well understand it, as part of himself heaved with yellow jealousy that Herlu was the one chosen.

“While they’re sneaking away, we’re going to be out there.” Yngvar pointed through the entrance. “Catching any potential eyes and stopping them from looking for them.”

“Won’t that make them more likely to attack us?” Es asked, worriedly.

“Maybe, but it’s a risk we have to take.” Yngvar said. “Dovar, Sansir I want you guys in the front looking as menacing as possible. Grevor, you’re on lighting duty. Make sure we’re easy to see and terrifying if you can manage it. Ranvir, Kalf, Esmund, and Grevor you’re with me on the second line. Esmund, if they actually attack you’ll stay at the back with the spear and help as you can. Only use your power if it becomes absolutely necessary.” Yngvar stopped, looking the warp tethered dead in the eye.

“Yes sir.” Es said, swallowing compulsively.

“Good.” Yngvar nodded. He grabbed Herlu and went over to the non-combatants and explained the situation. After they were situated at the back exit in the operation room, he returned to find the rest already in position. He nodded once, then gestured for them to exit.

Ranvir's heart was bruising the ribs in his chest, it beat so strongly. His stomach fluttered so wildly with nervous yellow and orange butterflies that it felt like it was contracting up into his throat. He wrapped his fingers around his hammer once, then again. Though his grip remained secure, he still felt like he was sweating enough for it to fall from his fingers at any moment. It felt oddly light, and heavy in his hand at the same time.

Then they left the tent. As soon as Sansir and Dovar exited, two lights bloomed above and behind them in a deep orange. It managed to light them all without becoming blinding, while still showing their footing.

“What the fuck…” Kalf cursed, before crouching down, putting one hand on the ground. “What’s going-“

The ground started shaking violently, nearly throwing Ranvir off his feet. He managed to catch Esmund before he fell, but he saw Yngvar stumble to one knee. The only ones who retained their footing were Sansir, Grevor, and Dovar.

There was a surprising amount of light at night. Before becoming a tethered, Ayvir had always associated night with an absolute darkness, but that wasn’t true. Usually, he tried his best to keep his Lance retracted fully within, something he as of yet still couldn’t fully manage, though tonight might not be one of those nights.

The fifth-year who’d gone to the academy landed on the dirt in front of the headquarters with barely a thud, light fading from his skin as he did. Unlike the student, Ayvir wasn’t out of breath as he dismissed Flesh, diminishing his speed to human levels.

The benefits of powering a lesser Discipline with the strength of a Master. He thought idly, as he stepped into the tent after the fifth-year.

“What’s the status?” He asked on entering, he was especially wondering why they’d asked for as many Masters as would come. His eyes landed on the map in the middle of the tent, a depiction of Elusria—the capital—with a series of yellow flags planted on various locations. “Emergencies?”

“Yes sir.” A fifth-year smoke tethered said, saluting Ayvir. “Sir, there’s been thirteen calls for assistance already, and we’re getting more-“

He was interrupted by a student entering and calling out. “Sector fourteen, emergency call.”

Smoke cursed and planted a small flag in a previously empty sector, before looking to Ayvir. “Sir, these have only been coming in for the last ten minutes.”

Ayvir’s lips thinned as he scanned the map. He noted Sector forty-three had a flag in it. “You did well in calling on us. I assume you’ve already dispatched help where you can.”

“Yes sir, but…” Smoke hesitated, before continuing. “It looks like it's a riot, we aren’t sure how to handle them.”

“A riot?” Ayvir asked stepping closer. His heart started beating faster in his chest. “Are you sure?”

He scanned the map, the clinics were too spread out and there wasn’t enough manpower assigned tonight to help with all locations at once. The clinics had been placed for the express purpose that even if three riots rose at the same time, they had enough fifth-years to stall them, while the rest evacuated the tents.

“These aren’t riots.” Ayvir muttered, looking over the map. “Fourteen riot-“ He was interrupted by another student entering and calling out sector fifty-one. “Fifteen riots is preposterous. Even if it was just five or six, their trails would still go all over the place.”

He traced one potential path with his finger, his brows drawing down into a scowl. “Full emergency evacuation. Pull out all the clinics you can without putting yourself in danger.”

“Sir.” The student said, saluting as Ayvir turned and walked out.

Extending his Lance fully, it rose a mile or more into the sky. As he started his manipulation a huge shadow was thrown across the city. He contained the energy within a hundred meters of his hand, even as collected all light passing through his Lance. A second later, he let go. All the light escaped the pillar.

For a single moment, Ayvir turned night into day.

Screening his eyes with a simple flex of his Veil, he filled his Flesh with that same energy, then launched off, streaking into the city towards Sector forty-three.