Neo walked with his group toward the tower, keeping the same steady pace as the rest while the camp stretched around them in a long, tense column.
More than fifty Awakeneds were moving together this time, enough boots over the dirt to turn the whole march into a low, constant murmur of friction, metal, cloth, and uneven breathing.
Snot walked at Neo's side and glanced over the crowd ahead.
"A lot of them are scared. Even after seeing the tower. Even after farming the second floor. Only a few really squeezed anything out of it." He tilted his head slightly toward the crowd ahead. "You can hear it in their blood. It's running hot in the wrong way. And you don't even need a class to notice the rest. Half of them look like they're walking to their own funeral."
