Dawn broke with a faint orange haze over the White Lion's massive courtyard. Klaus was already up by the time the first shafts of sunlight spilled across the barracks' stone floor. He quietly laced his boots, keenly aware of the murmur of activity around him—Team 55 members stirring, yawning, exchanging sleepy greetings. The tension from yesterday hadn't vanished, but there was a focused energy in the air. They knew Klaus would be running a more advanced drill today, and curiosity was catching up to their lingering doubts.
He stepped outside to find a mild breeze stirring the fortress flags atop tall watchtowers. Over the parapets, a few early patrols passed in hushed conversation, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble. White Lion never truly slept—some squads trained well into the night, while others began at dawn. But in this early hour, the bustle was subdued.
