After the rift closed and the golden figure vanished, we waited for the sky to crack again.
But it didn't.
No light.
No magic surge.
Just... silence.
The kind that hums in your bones and makes you doubt the fight ever happened at all.
Yuria sat on the east wall, kicking her boots against the stone. "I hate this part."
"What part?" I asked, seated beside her.
"The waiting. The pretending we won."
I glanced at the courtyard. Repairs had already started. Students patched runes. Gargoyles hauled rubble.
"I don't think we won," I said.
Yuria looked at me sideways. "Good. I'd be worried if you did."
