It was 8:30 p.m. when I began heading back to my room after spending some time in the cafeteria for dinner.
To be honest, the food had surprised me—it was unusually good. It had been a long while since I had last eaten there.
Normally, I preferred to prepare my meals myself in my room, where I could control everything, but that habit had become increasingly risky.
Lately, staying in my room for extended periods had turned into a gamble. There was always the chance that other students could strike without warning, especially when I was distracted—cooking, organizing my things, or simply lost in thought.
I wasn't unprepared by weakness; I was cautious because the environment demanded it.
The thought of being attacked while unready was enough to make me abandon my old routine and opt for the cafeteria instead.
As I made my way through the nearly empty corridors, my unease only grew.
Each step seemed amplified in the silence, echoing faintly against the walls.
