Kael slept like the dead.
Actually, considering how many 'dead' people he had seen in the last three days, that wasn't quite the right comparison. He slept like a rock—heavy, motionless, and completely resistant to the concept of movement.
The existential dread of the [Extinction] penalty hovering over his head had kept him awake for exactly ten minutes before his exhaustion won the argument.
His brain had simply shut down, deciding that impending doom was a problem for "Tomorrow Kael."
Well, "Tomorrow Kael" was now "Today Kael," and he was not happy about it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound was sharp, rhythmic, and incredibly annoying.
Kael groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated in his chest. He didn't open his eyes. Instead, he pulled the duvet higher, burying his head under the pillow in a futile attempt to suffocate the noise.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Go away," Kael mumbled into the mattress. "No one is here."
The knocking persisted, louder this time.
