The morning chill clung to the walls of the residential block, sharp and unyielding, carrying the flat, dry smell of scorched earth that never quite left the campus after the attack.
Three months.
That was how long it had been since the sky cracked open. Since a Gate tore open over the Sealed Valley. The purple mist poured through the broken ridges and the whole structure of our lives was forced to bend and break under the weight of a war we weren't ready for.
Time hadn't waited for us to catch our breath. It didn't slow down to let the dead rest properly either. The academy had repaired its buildings and patched its holes, but underneath the fresh mortar, the place felt hollow.
As I walked back toward the dorms, boots clicking softly against the ground, the silence of the morning felt heavy.
