The glowing white letters of Julian Thorne's message, "Congratulations, Zayn Carter. You survived my first lesson. The game has truly begun," pulsed on the holographic display, a chilling declaration of war. Zayn stared at the words, his heart hammering in his chest, a cold fury coiling in his gut. Leo, standing beside him, looked equally stunned, his eyes wide.
"A personal message," Leo whispered again, "from Thorne? How did he bypass everything? No, not bypass. It's like it was intended to reach us. Straight through."
Before Zayn could respond, before the implications of such a direct, arrogant intrusion could fully settle, his private comm unit, usually reserved for the highest level of encrypted communications, chirped with an unfamiliar tone. The display showed "UNKNOWN CALLER".
Th
