Noah woke to sunlight cutting through his windows and the distinct awareness that his body felt looser than it had in weeks. Months, maybe. The kind of physical contentment that came from finally releasing tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
Sophie was already gone, her side of the bed cool but with enough residual warmth to suggest she'd only left recently. He could hear the faction stirring outside—footsteps in corridors, voices discussing morning training schedules, the everyday machinery of two hundred people trying to coordinate breakfast without overwhelming the kitchen.
He stretched, feeling muscles respond with unusual ease. His regeneration had been working overtime while he slept, knitting together minor damage from yesterday's activities. Both kinds of activities, actually. Combat training and... other physical exertion.
