Morning came grey and quiet.

Marina was at the boundary stones before the camp woke, running her usual check, when Obsidian arrived with Vael's delegation already assembled behind him. He carried nothing. No pack, no belongings, just the same precise posture he always carried, magic bound and present and adjusting.

He handed Vael a single folded paper.

"The list," he said.

Marina watched Vael unfold it and scan the names. Her expression did not change, but something in her stillness deepened, the specific quality of someone reading confirmation of things she had suspected but never proven.

"Twenty-three names," Vael said.

"Twenty-three people who participated directly in the breeding program across...