Early the next morning, Ethan Gray arrived at the studio, moving with a purposeful stride that hid his lack of sleep. He carried his insulated flask, the stainless steel warm against his palm. Instead of heading to his private office, he walked straight to the small briefing room they had commandeered for the Young Prodigy Player project.
Since the core team of Ethan, Thomas Gray, and Flora Fairfield had been finalized, they had established a ritual: a 9:00 AM briefing to align their moving parts. In a project this experimental, silence was the enemy.
“That tea smells incredible. What is it? A gift from the High Council?”
Ethan turned to see Thomas Gray leaning against the doorframe. The director was dressed in a jet-black high-collared formal tunic, his thick beard neatly trimmed. He l
