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Night in the dormitory was a restless thing. The rows of bunks creaked as bodies shifted, as bruised muscles twitched, as lungs pulled air through chests still tight with the memory of fear. The Culling’s shadow lingered over every cot. It was not spoken aloud—no one dared—but it lived in their silence. Emil lay awake, staring at the dark beams above, each breath jagged in his chest. His throat still ached from Kael’s hand. The skin throbbed where the grip had closed, leaving a bruise he could feel with every swallow. His arms, too, burned with strain, the muscles swollen from holding against strikes that should have broken him outright. The whispers had grown quiet since the yard, but they had not vanished. They slumbered like coals under ash, warm and waiting, their presence felt in t
- Writer
