Inside the city, the command wing smelled like blood and humiliation.
The generals stood over the Supreme's unconscious body with a quiet tension that did not break into panic. They were trained men. Panic was for civilians and cowards. This was something else.
This was the moment after a god bleeds.
One general knelt and checked the Supreme's pulse again. "Alive," he said.
The other stood by the window, watching the outer district. He could see the gate mechanism from here, and he could see the first small groups leaving.
"They're going," he murmured.
The kneeling general did not look up. "Let them."
"They're leaving the walls."
"They're leaving the rules," the kneeling general corrected.
Silence settled.
A guard entered with a report clutched in both hands like it might bite. "Supreme's perimeter orders are still active," he said quietly. "The men are asking if they should enforce."
The general at the window turned his head slightly. "And what do you think."
