All eyes were on us the moment we stepped out of the cars.
It wasn't surprising, really. Part of the attention came simply from the size of our group — a wave of black uniforms, heavy boots, and dangerous auras spilling out onto the cracked asphalt. But the other part… well, anyone with functioning eyes could see it.
Cassel's subordinates were outrageously handsome.
It was almost comedic how synchronized the crowd's reaction was — heads turning, jaws dropping, whispers fluttering like moth wings. Men and women alike, each one of them so striking that even in this dystopian hell, even with death lurking behind every shadow, people still stopped to stare.
But that wasn't the true reason everyone watched us so intently.
The name Team Cassel carried weight. Heavy, dangerous, legendary weight.
People whispered about them in the dark. Mothers used their names to scare children into obedience. Survivors told stories around dying fires:
A man who could summon lightning at will.
