The word hung in the air between them like an accusation.
Professor Petrova leaned back in her chair, her pale eyes never leaving his face. "I want you to think very carefully about what you witnessed during the Necropolis incident two weeks ago."
Julian's stomach dropped like a stone. They'd made an agreement—the entire class had—to never speak about what had really happened in that Black Gate. The VHC had reinforced that agreement with official non-disclosure contracts and thinly veiled threats about "compromising national security."
"Professor," he said carefully, his mouth suddenly dry, "we had a deal with the VHC. We're not supposed to—"
"I'm not asking you to break the agreement," she interrupted smoothly. "I'm not asking you to tell me what happened inside that Gate. I'm asking you to consider the implications of what you already know."
She let that sink in for a moment before continuing.
