Round. The. Clock.



Shit, this is bad.

Really, really bad.

I’m beginning to panic inside, but I know I have to keep my cool. Still, I can’t believe how widespread this problem has become in just over fifteen minutes.

I feel perspiration forming on my temples as I glance over at the others again. Oskar seems composed and collected as always, even though I know he’s just as tense and distressed as everyone else.

Febe’s expression is neutral but she has her fingers intertwined; something she does when she feels like gouging someone’s eyes out. She’s definitely pissed. I’m just not sure if it’s because of the giant turd the Head Elder just dropped on us or because she’s imagining her hands around Jillion’s throat. Or Rabab’s, for that matter. She dislikes everything about him, as well. Frankly, I can’t blame her.

While my negative feelings towards the pudgy, balding Metallus are not as strong as hers, I honestly don’t like Rabab, either. Behind all the Elite Council crap, he’s just another greedy, manipulative dick on a power trip.

My eyes dart to Heike. He just looks like he wants to throw up. Poor bastard.

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