On my walk to the academy the next morning, I ran into a huge crowd of people blocking the way to the gates. I paused at the edge of the group, wondering what had caused the commotion. Ahead, on one of the academy's walls, I could glimpse something that I knew hadn't been there before. Not blood, but . . . writing.

Across the side wall, visible to the roads of the academic district, uneven letters stood out in bright red paint. And there, someone had written, You're suffocating ...