The first rays of morning crept over the academy spires, gilding the frost-laced roofs with gold. The campus was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that came after alarms had burned through the night.
Merlin walked alone toward the Headmistress's tower.
His uniform was crisp despite the exhaustion in his eyes, his steps measured. To anyone watching, he looked composed, maybe even indifferent. But under that calm surface, his thoughts spiraled like a storm.
The man's words from the ruins hadn't left him.
You don't belong here.
Some of us can see the seams.
He could still hear the cadence, too deliberate to be meaningless, too personal to be coincidence.
But no matter how deeply he thought, there was no logical explanation that fit this world.
Not one that he could share.
He reached the top floor, the grand double doors of Morgana's office already half-open.
"Enter," came her voice, steady, clipped, but laced with fatigue.
Merlin stepped in.
