The wind, or perhaps just the collective sharp intake of breath from hundreds of recruits, shrieked across the field.
Daniel, positioned near the back of the assembled crowd, feigned a deep interest in an unusually uninspiring cloud formation drifting across the dull grey sky.
He even attempted an innocent whistle, but it came out sounding suspiciously like the dying squeal of a small, terrified rodent.
Nyx, his Shadow Wolf Pup familiar, wisely remained silent and motionless in his pouch, probably calculating the odds of her owner being turned into a fine paste.
A brave, or perhaps suicidal, senior recruit with a surprisingly intact datapad stepped forward, clearing his throat nervously.
"Uh, D-Director Thorne, sir," he stammered, holding up the datapad.
"We, uh, cross-referenced the energy signatures from the… incident… with the simulator logs from yesterday.
