The bells of the east tiers rang at five as always. Ren rose before them. Three years of drills had carved the rhythm into his body. He runs, eats, bleeds, breathes and repeats. But something felt different that morning.
The halls were quieter. Guards who usually patrolled the training corridors weren't at their posts. The air itself seemed thinner, as if the grids that had always hummed under his feet had shifted their charge.
Nyxa stirred inside, a ripple at the edge of his thoughts.
"Your cage changes its shape. Do you notice?"
Ren tied the black training jacket. Maybe a regulation issue, plain, reinforced at the seams and ignored her for now. The jacket's weight had once felt strange, but now it was like skin. His boots fit without thought, the soles molded to thousands of miles across weighted tracks.
He stepped out.
