Falling Out

By the time the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting its fading glow, Lyra had already led her squad of thirty-one back to their original formation.

She checked the time, then turned to face the disgruntled faces staring her down.

The group was clearly over it—frustration practically radiated off of them.

"Alright, you're free to go. Don't forget to show up on time tomorrow," Lyra said coolly, though there was a playful bite to her words.

The group collectively rolled their eyes, mentally drafting excuses to get out of it. As expected, Rubens was the first to pop off. He let out an exaggerated scoff, stomping forward with all the grace of a toddler mid-tantrum.

"The hell I'm showing up again tomorrow!" he barked, voice dripping with irritation. Then, with a dramatic huff, he stormed off, seething.