Rory stared at the screen, watching as clusters of flesh and blood burst apart again and again, blooming like grotesque flowers.
The heavy stench of blood seemed to seep straight through the display, clinging to her senses as if it were real. Rory's stomach churned violently, nausea surging up her throat so fast she nearly gagged. She turned her head slightly, fighting the urge to look away entirely.
"Jasper," she said tightly, her voice strained with barely restrained disgust, "tell Mr. Slade and Senior Ethan Gabriel to kill the two real Rank Ten elites."
Her decision was swift. Absolute.
Anyone who could use members of their own clan as experimental subjects—twisting them into weapons, discarding them when they broke—had already lost every trace of conscience.
People like that weren't leaders.
They were monsters wearing human skin.
