Lunch came too fast, the cafeteria buzzing with shard users and guards. Elias grabbed a tray—stew again, lumpy and gray—and found a corner table. The air smelled of grease and tension, voices overlapping in a low roar.
His comm buzzed mid-bite, a sharp chime cutting through the din. "Elias Kael," the message read, stark on the screen. "Report to Warden Geras. Now."
He shoved the tray aside, the stew sloshing, and stood. Kikaru caught his eye across the room, her frown asking questions he couldn't answer. He nodded once, heading for the door, his boots thudding on the tile.
The halls were cold, the sterile hum of the facility pressing against his ears. Guards nodded as he passed, their rifles glinting under the harsh lights. He reached Geras's office, the reinforced door hissing open at his touch.
