Containment did not collapse quietly. It snapped.
The first crack came before sunrise. Sable had barely slept. Every time she shifted, her back burned where old wounds had been reopened and never properly allowed to heal. The cold bath from two nights ago had settled deep into her joints, and her shoulder throbbed with a dull, grinding ache that refused to fade. Pain had become constant enough to be background noise, but that morning it pulsed sharper, as if her body sensed what her mind had not yet seen.
The knock came before the bell. Hard. Three strikes against her door that carried command rather than request.
She stood slowly, jaw tight, and opened it.
Four warriors waited outside. Not guards, but Warriors. That distinction alone told her this was no administrative adjustment.
"Assembly," one said.
"Now."
No explanation. No courtesy.
