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"Three minutes!" Dax calls. Feels like thirty.

The panicking civilian from earlier appears again. Because apparently hell has a sense of humor. She refuses evacuation. I send someone. They argue.

"No." I say. Everyone looks. "Don't spend two people on one person." Harsh. Necessary. "One escort. Keep the route open."

Inner ward begins failing. I move there myself.

"You're command." Someone says.

"I know."

"Shouldn't you stay back?" Probably. Rhyven would. Maybe. No. Rhyven goes where he's useful. I can reinforce. So I do. Left hand to stone. Magic. Hold. Still giving orders. "North?"

"Clear."

"West?"

"Falling back."

"Casualties?"

"Three." Fuck.

"East?"

"Abandoned."

"Inner?"

"Seventy percent."

"Good."

Bell. Everything stops. My lungs burn. Hands shake.

Three simulated casualties. One structural loss. All civilians extracted except— I look. The panicking one. No. She made it. Good.

Nobody says anything. Dax writes. Kaelis writes. Professor Vayne appears from somewhere because apparently he materializes whenever suffering ends.

He looks at the field. Then me. "Why did you abandon the eastern courtyard?"

"Couldn't hold both."

"Correct. Why did you move command into the ward line?"

"I could reinforce."

"Bad."

I blink. "What?"

"If you go down, command goes down." Damn. "You had someone else capable of reinforcing." He points toward the fae student. I look. Right. Mistake.

"Understood."

"Why did you give up the western primary corridor?"

"Not enough defenders."