I woke before the alarm.
That alone felt wrong.
For the past few days, the compound never stopped breathing.
Music bleeding through walls at all hours. Footwork pounding through the corridor. Trainees whispering lyrics at 2 AM. Showers running. Doors opening, closing, opening again.
But today?
Nothing.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to silence so complete it felt like pressure against my eardrums.
The absence of sound was louder than any music track.
Then the alarm shattered it.
Doyun's hand shot out from the other bed and killed the noise before the second chime finished.
Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
I turned my head slightly, watching him sit up in the dim pre-dawn light. His movements were careful. Like he was afraid sudden motion might trigger something irreversible.
We'd spent days preparing for something that existed in the future. Something we could still alter, prepare for, convince ourselves we'd survive.
