Hikaru said nothing for a moment, then: "You’re worried."

"I’m not worried." The denial came too quickly. "I’m... concerned about unknown variables."

"Monroe isn’t taking performance enhancers. He’s not receiving special training. He’s simply applying himself with unusual focus."

"You sound like you respect him."

Hikaru shrugged slightly. "I respect results."

Before Blair could respond, the common room door burst open and Charles strode in, followed by Dante and Javier carrying trays of food.

"Sorry we’re late." Javier breezed in with that insufferable optimism that made Blair want to throw something. "Dining hall was crazy packed. Charles figured we should grab food before diving into strategy."

Charles dropped into the seat next to her and pushed a plate forward. "You haven’t eaten all day. Don’t think I didn’t notice."

"I’ve been busy."

"You’ve been stalking Monroe’s training schedule," Dante cut in, setting down more sandwiches. "There’s a difference."

The warmth started at her collarbone and crept upward. "I’m analyzing a competitor."

"Right." Dante grinned like he’d just won something. "A competitor who happens to have abs now. Very tactical of you to notice."

"Go to hell, Dante."

"Whoa, hey." Javier started handing out plates like some kind of cafeteria saint. "We’re a squad. Let’s keep it civil."

"Civil?" Blair looked at each of them in turn. "You want civil? Fine. Tell me what any of you have done to prepare for tomorrow besides show up here with sandwiches."

Charles sat up straighter. "We’re prepared. But you’ve been obsessing over Monroe for three days straight. That’s not normal prep, Blair."

"Understanding the enemy is literally the first rule of combat strategy."

"Understanding, sure. Having a whole folder of surveillance photos? That’s something else."

Every muscle in Blair’s body went rigid. "You went through my computer?"

A flush crept into Charles’s face. "I was hunting for the sim footage from Tuesday. Your recent files were... visible."

Javier made a noise like a dying animal. Dante looked ready to burst. Even Hikaru’s eyebrows lifted fractionally.

"Those." Blair’s voice could have frozen nitrogen. "Are documentation. For tracking physical progression metrics."

"Right," Dante drawled. "Analysis."

"You know what?" Blair stood up, gathering her tablet. "I’m going to find a squad that actually wants to win tomorrow. You four can sit here and eat sandwiches and joke about my ’fixation’ while the Foxes prepare to kick our asses."

"Blair, come on," Javier’s cheerful demeanor cracked slightly. "We’re just trying to lighten the mood. We know tomorrow is important."

"Do you? Because Vale basically told our entire class that we’re going to lose because we can’t function as a team, and here you are, proving him right."

That landed. All four of them straightened slightly.

"Nobody wants to lose tomorrow," Charles said quietly. "Especially not to Monroe and his squad of lottery rejects."

"Then start acting like it." Blair pulled up the gate briefing on the main display. "Swamp biome. Amphibian-type hostiles with paralytic venom. Multiple mini-bosses instead of a single alpha. Estimated clear time for our skill level: ninety minutes."

The room’s atmosphere shifted as they focused on the data.

"Our biggest challenge is the terrain," Blair continued. "Limited visibility. Restricted movement. Poison hazards in both the water and surrounding vegetation."

Blair’s fingers paused over the display controls. Charles leaned forward slightly in his chair, attention finally focused.

"I’ll take point with Hikaru," Blair said, her tone brooking no argument now. "Detection capabilities make us the logical forward unit. Charles, you’re designated heavy hitter for mini-boss encounters. Dante handles crowd control on smaller hostiles. Javier covers support and extraction."

Javier’s shoulders relaxed visibly. Being out of direct combat suited him.

Blair cycled through archived footage of their squad’s previous gate runs. Each clip showed the same recurring problems. "These patterns need to stop. Charles, every time you break formation to intercept threats near me, Javier ends up exposed. I can handle myself." She skipped to another clip. "Dante, the improvisation needs to end. Stick to the agreed strategy. Hikaru, call out trap placements the moment you set them so we can work around them. Javier, when you see an opening, take it. Stop second-guessing yourself."

The criticism stung, judging by their expressions. But none of them argued. They knew she was right.

"Questions?" Blair looked at each of them in turn.

"What about the Foxes?" Charles asked after a moment. "How do we think they’ll approach this?"

Blair considered the footage she’d analyzed. "Previous gate records show Ayame leading with Fox on detection duties. Monroe and Kim handle middle-range threats. Love provides ranged support from defensive positions."

"Monroe’s Wave Motion has improved," Hikaru said. "Current range extends to forty meters. Precision at that distance is reliable."

Blair turned sharply. "You didn’t tell us?"

Hikaru’s expression didn’t waver. "You didn’t ask."

The words landed with uncomfortable precision. Blair inhaled slowly, feeling the sharp reminder of Vale’s earlier rebuke. Their squad’s inability to share intelligence without explicit prompting was exactly the dysfunction he’d identified.

"New rule," Blair announced. "Until tomorrow’s gate, everyone shares everything they know about the Foxes. No reservations. No assumptions that someone else has already covered it."

Four heads nodded in agreement.

"Good." Blair returned her attention to the tactical display. "Now let’s address specific formations for swamp conditions."

The conversation shifted to logistics and positioning strategies. Some of the coiled stress in Blair’s shoulders began to unwind as they worked through scenarios. On paper, they had the superior squad. They simply needed to stop sabotaging themselves with poor coordination.

Tomorrow’s victory would silence the doubters. After that, she could dedicate proper attention to the Monroe situation.

Because there was absolutely a situation. People didn’t transform like that through conventional training. Not in three weeks. Not with that degree of physical restructuring.

Monroe’s altered features surfaced in her thoughts again without permission. The defined jaw. The calm focus in his eyes. The self-assurance that had been completely absent during orientation.

Something fundamental had changed in him.

Blair would uncover what it was.

Even if she had to drag the answer out of him personally.