In no time they'd arrive at the east wing, prepared to answer Jayden's call out.
However, the east wing stretched before them, eerily silent. The usual buzz of commerce, the haggling of traders, the excited chatter of students browsing tech gear—all replaced by a hollow emptiness that made their footsteps echo against concrete.
Amanda's heels clicked behind Lucas as they rounded the corner to the main square. Then they saw it.
Painted on the central wall, spanning nearly twenty feet across, was a massive bullseye. At its center, in stark black paint that still looked wet: "ZONE 12."
"Bastard," someone in the crowd muttered.
Lucas stood perfectly still, his shoulders rigid under his formal wear. The silence stretched, heavy with anticipation. Then, slowly, he raised his right hand.