In the early morning of mid-April, the New York air still held a crisp, biting chill. A gentle breeze swept across the open plaza of Columbus Circle, whistling between the glass towers.
Wednesday was a workday in Manhattan. The plaza was a sea of movement—commuters in trench coats hurrying toward the subway, clutching artisanal lattes and morning papers as the city roared to life.
Liam Thorne sat on a weathered wooden bench in the center of the square, his arms draped over the back of the seat. He watched the morning sun bathe the greenery and the sleek subway entrances in a pale, golden light.
He wasn't far from Empire State University. He had driven down from The Pierre early that morning and was now waiting for his "phalanx" to assemble: Chloe, Justin Yu, Leo Vance, and the sharp-eye
