The door shut behind Victor with a quiet, solid click.
Not loud.
Still final.
The sound landed in the room and stayed there.
The chamber they used for Snow Team meetings had been a storage room once. Seven months ago someone would have filled it with barrels or dried grain or spare tools nobody wanted cluttering the main hall.
Now it held predators.
Stone walls. Cold and damp where the morning air crept through the mortar. One narrow window cut high into the wall near the ceiling. Too high to see through without climbing.
Gray daylight spilled through it in a thin strip.
Dust floated slowly through the beam like something underwater.
The table was wrong for the room.
Too big. Too heavy. It had been dragged here a few days ago.
The legs didn't match anymore. One had been replaced with a metal support. Another had a wedge hammered under it to stop the wobble.
A map of the city lay spread across the surface. Pinned down with knives.
Everyone was already there.
