The first thing Ren noticed was the silence.
Not the ordinary kind that followed a tense exchange, nor the heavy hush of a room holding its breath before a decision. This silence had edges. It pressed against the walls, settled in the throat, and seemed to wait with intent. The violet light that had flooded the hidden passage a moment ago was gone, but its afterimage still lingered behind Ren's eyes, staining the corridor in phantom hues whenever he blinked.
"Move," Ren said.
His voice came out low and clipped, sharper than he intended, but nobody questioned it. That was the trouble with moments like this. There was no time to be courteous when the building itself had just chosen to speak.
The apprentice was still rigid with shock, staring at the wall as though he expected it to open again and swallow him whole. The silver mark on his wrist had faded slightly, but not entirely. A thin metallic sheen remained beneath the skin, faint as a scar under moonlight.
