7
On stage, all nine of us sit straighter as a very tall, nicely muscled blonde takes the podium. While I was chatting with the girls, the audience filled to capacity with even more angry girl sss students. Most are in private school girl uniforms but some wear leather skirts and bodices. Almost all carry a bow, a knife, a sword, or some kind of weapon. Overall, they’re not what I’d call a super friendly crowd.
“Ladies,” Athena says, then pauses, as if pained. “And gentlemen,” she adds, that last word sticking in her throat. Her voice carries throughout the hall as if she’s on a sound system.
A ripple of unease runs through the crowd, followed by some hisses. Athena raises her arms—which don’t have an ounce of wobble—and silence falls.
“My women,” she says, her silver eyes scanning the
