Matt woke up before the sun rose. The room at the top of the Grand Veil Spire was quiet, but his mind was already moving. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his hands. They were steady, strong, marked with faint silver lines under the skin from years of twilight power. He flexed his fingers slowly, remembering how these same hands once shook after Kade slapped him in the classroom. That memory was always there, like a quiet anchor. It kept him from forgetting where he started.
He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out over the sleeping city. The streets were empty except for a few night patrols and the soft glow of twilight lamps that never fully went out. From up here, everything looked peaceful. But Matt knew peace was not something that happened by itself. It was built
