The fourth day began.
Not loud ones. Not shouting. Just the wrong kind of quiet sound that slipped under doors and crawled along corridors. Low conversation carried through walls. Measured pauses. Words spoken carefully, like everyone involved believed they were being reasonable.
Lyris woke before the lights shifted.
She lay still on the upper bunk, eyes open, breathing slow. The base sounded different this morning. Heavier foot traffic. Boots that struck metal with unfamiliar cadence. The soft brush of cloaks against armor. The faint metallic clink that didn't match Atlas gear.
Guild steel.
Below her, Mira stirred, breath hitching just enough to show she'd noticed it too.
"You hear it," Mira murmured.
"Yes," Lyris said.
Ragna snorted once and rolled onto her back, one arm flung over her eyes. "If they're here to complain, I hope they brought food. I'm starving."
