The sun had barely risen over Sector Seven, and already the air
felt thick, heavy with fear. A dull gray haze clung to the streets,
as if the city itself were holding its breath, waiting. I hugged
my backpack closer, shoulders tight, each step echoing off the
concrete buildings. My stomach churned, a warning I couldn't
ignore.
I passed the usual gray-clad students, their faces blank, ex-
pressions hollow. Nobody smiled anymore. Nobody dared. We
all walked like ghosts, heads down, avoiding attention. But
that morning, something different hung in the air. Whispers
slithered along the walls, something sharp and dangerous.
Something that smelled like death.
And then I saw it.
A classmate-Taren Hale-was being pulled from the line. Not
gently, not with warnings. The Dominion Enforcers moved
like shadows with precision, armored boots clanging against floor.