The smell of food drifted through the hallways, warm and rich, cutting through the usual crisp morning air.
Jin stepped out of his room, rolling his shoulders. His body still remembered last night—the way his arms ached from pushing his skill further, the way his fingers tingled from forcing control where there was none.
But it wasn't exhaustion that filled him now.
It was focus.
Today, they were making the first move.
As he walked toward the cafeteria, he could hear voices—the low murmur of conversation, the scrape of chairs against tile, the occasional clatter of dishes. The atmosphere was different from previous mornings. Less tension, more anticipation.
They were getting used to this.
Jin stepped through the doors, taking in the sight of the recruits gathered at the long tables, eating real food—not ration bars, not scavenged cans, but something freshly made.
Seul was standing by the counter, serving up portions with practiced efficiency, her sleeves rolled up.
