The city awoke with the faint, almost imperceptible feeling that something had shifted.

Nothing was visibly different. Lanterns lit in the same cadence. Patrols moved through streets in familiar loops. Trains ran on schedule, bridges bore their usual weight, and bread still reached the markets.

But the rhythm had changed.

It was tighter, sharper, more precise—and weighted with anticipation. Every step, every glance, every motion carried the possibility of judgment. Varenth did not merely ...