The morning air in Solvayne Academy carried the usual energy of students moving between classes. Footsteps echoing down long marble halls.
Bits of chatter rising and falling in every direction. But today, it felt different. Heavier.
There was a tension in the air. Like everyone was holding their breath.
Kyle kept his head down as he walked through the main corridor, hands buried deep in his pockets.
The polished marble floor reflected the soft glow of mana-lamps overhead. But even that usual shine felt dull today.
Around him. Groups of students huddled together. Whispering in tight circles, their voices lowered but urgent.
"—heard it was a massacre—"
"—only three made it out alive—"
"—they say Princess Eleanora was there—"
Kyle didn't react. He didn't need to. He'd heard enough.
He pushed forward, weaving past students without making eye contact.
The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into some half-true gossip about what had happened.
