The sentinels’ fingers dug into my arms, promising bruises. They were following orders, but just barely, their grip a carefully measured violence. One pressed his thumb into the tender flesh of my bicep, a petty cruelty that would leave a dark mark for days.
"Move," he growled.
I moved. Resisting was pointless. They dragged me through unfamiliar corridors, my feet shuffling on the stone floor because it was easier than fighting. The silver
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