No one slept that night too.
That wasn't an order. It just happened that way.
Lanterns stayed lit along the inner walls of the Southern Archive. Not ceremonial ones. It was work lights. The kind that flicker when mana output dips. People kept checking them anyway.
The fog hadn't advanced again. That almost made it worse.
A runner came in from the east path, boots muddy, breathing hard. "Edge hasn't moved more than fifty meters in the last hour."
Ervin nodded once. "Log it. Check again in thirty."
"Yes, sir."
Ren sat on the steps near the training yard, forearms resting on his knees. His jacket was half off, shirt dark with sweat. He wasn't injured badly, but his body felt wrong like it hadn't finished agreeing with him yet.
Nyxa crouched nearby, watching everything. Fighters. Corners. Shadows.
"You're stiff," she said.
"I know."
"Then stop pretending you're not."
Ren stood anyway.
