The sirens started before dawn.
At first, I thought it was another drill. The kind that gets scheduled once a month and makes everyone roll their eyes while pretending not to be rattled. The kind that makes your stomach twist and your chest lock up until someone comes in and waves it off, smirking like we were all soft for reacting at all. But the second I stepped into the hall and saw Nathan’s face, I knew this wasn’t a drill. His lips were drawn tight. His phone buzzed constantly in his hand, his eyes never leaving the screen for more than a second. When our eyes met, he nodded once and said nothing. That silence told me more than words ever could.
War had reached us.
The corridors echoed with movement: footfalls, comms chatter, the faint hiss of sealed doors disengaging. I passed a c
