Containment turned days into sameness.
Kael woke before dawn, reviewed the same routes, stood in the same unstable places, and absorbed pressure that no longer spiked—only pressed. It wasn't dramatic. That was the problem.
There were no clean endings anymore.
Threats dulled instead of breaking. Mana ground against him like a tide with no shore. The system recalculated constantly, shaving margins, flagging inefficiencies that used to be theoretical.
He ignored the notices.
The academy adjusted around him. Schedules shifted to put Kael between hotspots. Patrols learned to wait for his signal. Instructors stopped asking questions they didn't want answers to.
People slept better.
Kael slept less.