The morning did not rise gently.
It arrived sharp and pale, washing the courtyard in cold light as if the world had been scrubbed clean overnight.
Shunya was already awake.
He sat upright on the edge of the bed, breathing slow and controlled. The restriction was present but manageable. The loophole held. As long as his intent remained quiet, the system allowed basic motion.
Vikoria stood beside him, adjusting the collar of his outer cloak with trembling fingers.
"You look too calm," she murmured.
"I am conserving thoughts," he replied softly.
She did not smile.
Outside, the sound of armored boots echoed across stone.
Naomi stepped to the window.
"They are here."
The courtyard below had changed overnight.
This was no ordinary escort.
Two rows of elite capital guards stood aligned in perfect symmetry. Silver armor, crimson sashes. Their posture was ceremonial, not hostile.
And in the center of the courtyard—
Flames bloomed.
Not wild. Not destructive.
Controlled.
