Two hundred and thirty days after the corridor closed, the quiet no longer needed counting.The southern line ran under ordinary watch. Patrols moved in steady rotations. The outer markers stayed live, but the constant edge of wartime readiness had faded into simple competence. No probes came. No messengers arrived from the far north. The smaller packs that had once watched with calculating interest had gone still. The region had settled into a long, cautious acceptance. Blackthorn held its claim without challenge, and the silver-line Luna was no longer a question anyone openly asked.Aria stood on the south terrace at dusk, hands resting on the cold stone railing. The permanent mark on her neck felt warm against the cooling air, a steady pulse that had become as familiar as her own heartbeat. The forest beyond the walls stretched quiet and dark. She listened out of habit, the way she had for months, but nothing moved that should not have been there. The old tension of waiting for the
最終更新日 : 2026-08-28
