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We reach the door. Seventeen— No. Sixteen. Plus three strangers. Nineteen. I shove them inside. "Toren, secondary exit."

He checks. "Clear."

"Mira, count." She starts. "Lena, ward anchor."

"I'm shaking."

"I know."

"I can't—"

"You can shake and do it anyway." She looks at me. Then nods. Good.

Something crashes outside. I turn. Another student runs down the corridor. No. Not runs. Stumbles. His left arm— Gone. From above the elbow. I don't understand what I'm seeing at first. Blood everywhere. So much. He's holding the stump with his other hand. Someone behind him is screaming:

"HEALER!" The student looks at me. Young. Second-year maybe. His mouth moves. No sound.

"Mira!" She sees.

"Fuck. Medical kit." We get him inside. He collapses.

Tourniquet. Training. Good. Simple. Except it isn't. Because the blood is hot. Because he's screaming now. Because his entire body is shaking. Because this isn't a simulation.

"High." I tell Mira. "Higher."

She places the tourniquet. Pull. Hard. He screams louder. "I'm sorry." Useless words.

"Pull." She does. Blood slows.

"What's your name?" I ask.

He stares at me. "What?"

"Name."

"Elian."

"Elian, look at me." His eyes find mine. "You stay awake." He nods too quickly. "Good." Someone pounds on the lecture-room door. Everyone freezes.

Three knocks. "Academy! Open!" We don't. Not immediately. Good.

"Name!" I shout.

"Professor Halven!"

Could be. Doesn't matter. "Code!"

Silence. "Third bell before dawn." Current faculty response code. I open. Professor Halven enters with four students. One wounded. One crying. One— No.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"The western wall is gone." My stomach drops.

"Gone?"

"Partially collapsed."

"Hollowborn?"