Hajin returned from the southern gate while repair crews carried the Command House records toward Marrick's old registry. The manor still stood behind them, yet braces sealed its eastern wing beneath the roof Hajin had folded across the assassins.
The route hall remained open to the night sky above it. Patrol slates lay under wet cloth, the dispatch office had lost its outer wall, and eight assassin bodies waited beneath separate registry covers.
Residents gathered in the yard with blankets around their shoulders. Some had slept in the clinic, some beneath wagons, and some beside the wall while guards checked every shadow before letting them close their eyes.
Loccy carried her broken hammer grip through the watching crowd. Numbness lingered in both forearms, and every time her fingers tightened, pain ran up to her elbows.
"The western room is still open to the sky, and nobody sleeps inside it tonight," she said.
