. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Liu Xian hadn't closed his eyes for more than a few minutes.
Sleep, it turned out, didn't come easy when your bones still echoed the memories of electric pulses and scalpels. Even though the bed here wasn't stained with blood and fear, and the ceiling above him wasn't buzzing with flickering surgical lights, his body still twitched like it expected something sharp to touch it. So he lay awake, silent, his breath low and even, as if pretending to be asleep would make his mind shut up.
Eventually, a soft blue hue crept through the high windows of the dormitory. Morning.
He sighed—more of a release than anything else—and pushed himself up, his joints stiff and reluctant, like they hadn't forgiven him for surviving the lab.
The announcement came with a gentle tone that didn't match the cold hallways and robotic routine: "All recruits, rise. Orientation Preparation Protocols initiated. Dress immediately and proceed to Gear Distribution Sector."
