The High Tower had no windows. Only slits for air. No true doors. Only wards.
They called it the quiet place, a relic from the First War when rogue Alphas needed to be caged without shame. But it was never meant for Camille.
And yet, here she was.
Bound in silence. Surrounded by ancient stones that whispered more than they held. Her wrists were bare, but she felt the weight of every invisible chain.
She hadn't asked Elara for anything not food, not light, not company.
Because she already knew what they had decided.
The moment the vote passed, something inside her snapped like a branch.
Not pain.
Clarity.
Magnolia's footsteps echoed long before her fist hit the outer gate.
"Elara!" she shouted. "Open the seal. Now!"
Elara appeared from the shadows, her robe unfastened, her eyes tired. "You saw the vote?"
Magnolia pushed past her. "I heard it. I felt it. And if you think I'm going to let her rot in that tower like some forgotten curse "
