Morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the western dormitory, laying pale stripes across the floorboards. The academy's day-cycle energy field had already shifted. The soft nocturnal hum was gone, replaced by a cleaner, brighter frequency designed to gently nudge sleeping bodies toward wakefulness.
Ash opened his eyes and found himself looking at the ceiling.
He was lying diagonally across the bed. One foot still hung off the edge. One arm was folded beneath his chest, completely numb from the shoulder down. There was a damp patch on the pillow where his face had been pressed all night. He lay there for a long moment, taking inventory of the situation, and reached a single firm conclusion.
Nobody could ever find out how he had gone to sleep.
