Selara finally entered the tower.
She had been here before, on the day they arrived in Aurevane, when the train attack had forced her to report what happened to the city's higher authorities. Back then, she had walked into this place carrying blood, damage reports, student names, and the kind of professional irritation that made officials sit straighter without knowing why.
This time was different.
This time, she came for something far more important.
The tower rose above the administrative district in pale stone and dark glass, not the tallest structure in Aurevane, but one that had no need to beg for attention. It stood with the quiet arrogance of a place where signatures could bury crimes, where permissions could outlive witnesses, and where every locked door had a committee ready to explain why it had always been locked.
Selara walked through the entrance without slowing.
