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The soft glow of the computer screen cast eerie shadows across Clancy's face as his fingers flew across the keyboard, the rhythmic tapping of keys the only sound in his otherwise silent cabin. Laughter echoed from the dining hall where the other residents of East River were finishing their meal. But Clancy wasn't thinking about breakfast. His eyes reflected the harsh light of the monitor as he focused intently on the message window before him, carefully crafting each word of his report.

The cursor blinked expectantly as he began typing: "Census complete as of today. Numbers are holding steady despite the recent influx." His fingers paused momentarily as he double-checked his mental tally. "Current population stands at 26 Blues, 54 Greens, and 12 Yellows."

He smiled slightly, knowing the next piece of information would be of particular interest to his correspondent. "Two Oranges present in camp," he continued typing. "One is relatively untrained, but the other..." He allowed himself a small chuckle. "The other is significantly more powerful than anticipated. Raw talent unlike anything I've seen before. With proper guidance, the potential is extraordinary."

The response came almost immediately, the message notification breaking the silence: "Impressive numbers. You should be proud of what you've built there. Orders?"

Clancy's smile widened, a predatory gleam entering his eyes as he typed those three fateful words: "It's time for harvest."

His finger had barely lifted from the enter key when the sharp sound of footsteps in the hallway made his heart skip a beat. In one fluid motion born of long practice, he minimized the window and cleared his browser history, turning just as Talia appeared in the doorway. Her silhouette was lit by the hallway lights, her hair forming a halo around her face that made it impossible to read her expression. She was wearing the oversized jacket she'd arrived in, the one she still hadn't given up despite the warmer clothes available at camp. Something about the way she clutched it around herself made her older than her years.

Sorry to interrupt," she said, taking a tentative step into the room. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet office. "I wanted to ask you something, if you have a minute?"

Clancy leaned back in his chair, adopting an air of casual indifference that betrayed none of the tension coursing through his body. He gestured to one of the chairs across from his desk. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

Talia remained standing, fidgeting with the frayed hem of her jacket. "It's about Chubs, actually," she began, her voice soft but determined. "He's been really worried about his parents. They must be going out of their minds, not knowing where he is or if he's safe. I was wondering... could he maybe use your computer to try and contact them? Just for a few minutes? Just to let them know he's alive?"

"Absolutely not." Clancy's response was immediate and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. He saw Talia flinch at his tone and deliberately softened his voice, leaning forward with an expression of concerned understanding. "I know it's hard, Talia. Believe me, I understand the desire to reach out to family. But it's too dangerous. Any communication could be traced back to us, putting everyone here at risk. The League has sophisticated tracking systems – one wrong move could bring them right to our doorstep. I can't jeopardize the safety of everyone in East River, no matter how good the intention."

Talia's shoulders slumped, and she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. The disappointment was clear on her face, though she tried to hide it. "I understand," she said quietly. "I'll tell him. I just thought..."

"However," Clancy interrupted, his voice taking on an interesting new tone that made Talia look up sharply. He stood from his desk chair, moving around to lean against the front of his desk. "I might be willing to make an exception... if you'll do something for me in return."