The eighth morning didn't ease into the academy—it arrived with weight already settled in the air. There was no gradual shift, no slow buildup of tension like the previous days. By now, everyone understood that each lesson wasn't separate. Everything was connected. Every day built on the last, and whatever came next wasn't going to be easier.
The courtyard reflected that realization. Students still gathered, still moved between spaces, but something had changed in the way they carried themselves. Conversations were quieter, more focused. No one wasted time anymore. The earlier tension that once showed openly had turned inward. They weren't reacting anymore—they were preparing.
