The murmur of the cafeteria—that sonic tapestry woven from the clink of synthetic cutlery, the hum of automated trays, and the echo of hundreds of teenage conversations—remained constant, like a tide refusing to recede. It was the sound of academic normalcy, a comforting drone that served as a shield against the uncertainties of training. The light from the artificial star continued to filter through the dome, stable and pristine, bathing the hall in an aseptic glow that ignored the very concept of time. Nothing in that environment, designed for the rest and nutrition of the cadets, suggested an immediate shift. Everything seemed under the absolute control of the institution's wellness algorithms.
The sound arrived without warning, tearing through the bubble of the everyday with the violence of a blade.
