this is the first chapter of my novel. i want a full review, analysis, and critique, especially of the storytelling style and language, because english is not my first language. i also use ai to help me with formatting some sentences.

The sky hung grey. Breathing came hard. Inside the massive stone structure, the air tasted of dust and stale blood. Yur sat on a cold stone bench, his clothes reduced to rags. Shivers racked his body until his limbs finally went numb.

Hundreds trembled around him in silence. Dry mouths remained shut, emitting only low, guttural moans. A rusted metal door screeched open, the sharp sound echoing against the stone. A woman stepped inside.

She was ancient, her body swaying with a rhythmic, sickly motion. Every eye fixed on her. She smelled of putrid meat. Deep lines etched her face, her skin dark and parched. Her black eyes reflected nothing. Long, grime-caked nails dug into a girl’s wrist.

The girl’s black hair was clean and smooth. She stood with a straight back amidst the wretched crowd. Yur stared, old stories flickering in his mind. He imagined gripping a sword, leaping forward to sever the hag’s hand and save the girl.

Reality shattered the thought. Morgra slammed the girl’s head into the stone wall. Bone cracked. Yur pressed a hand over his mouth, nails digging into his own flesh. He stopped dreaming and started shaking. The old woman struck the girl’s head against the stone again and again.

Blood painted the stone a dark crimson. The girl crumpled, lifeless. Morgra drew a knife. She blurred into motion, stabbing the corpse hundreds of times.

Yur stared at the floor, his heart hammering—not for the girl, but because he was still alive. Morgra lunged toward the crowd. "You are my disciples now!" she rasped. She produced cups filled with a thick liquid. Yur swallowed his quickly. Morgra’s laughter rang out. "Donkey piss and horse dung!" she cackled. Yur cursed. Her smile widened. "A joke. It is medicine to steel your bodies."

White-hot pain lanced through Yur’s skull. Screams erupted around him. His memories turned to mist until only his name remained. Morgra raised her hands. "Batch seventy-three!" A young man pointed a trembling finger at the corpse. "Lady, why did you kill her?" Morgra tore his body into shreds instantly. Silence fell. "First, those who question me die," she shrieked. "Second, I killed her because she was prettier than me. No one here will outshine me. I am a Follower of Envy."

Bodies hit the floor as others lost consciousness. Yur struggled to stand. Morgra pointed at a blonde girl. "What is the Balance Coefficient before transformation?" Before the girl could speak, she was torn apart. Morgra laughed. "One hundred and thirteen."

Morgra moved from student to student, slaughtering those without answers. She stopped before Yur. She stared into his eyes; he didn’t look away. Tension coiled in his chest as he took in the carnage. "I like you," she said. "Three questions for you." Yur closed his eyes and waited for death.

A heavy voice boomed from the shadows. "Stop killing the students, Morgra. We need them." A massive, bald man with dark skin emerged. "We must return to the Academy before the Empire’s soldiers arrive."

Morgra pulled her knife from Yur’s throat. "The bastard wants you alive," she whispered. "One chance. Prove your worth." She handed him two metal cups, cold vapor curling from the rims. "Deliver these to the Doctor and Cain at the exit. Spill a single drop, and I’ll gut you."

Yur gripped the metal. His hands shook. He forced himself forward, measuring every step with agonizing care. At the exit stood a gaunt doctor and a mountain of a man named Cain. As Yur approached, Cain’s blade flashed, slicing into Yur's shoulder. Blood soaked his shirt. Yur didn't flinch. He kept the cups level even as tears stung his eyes.

The Doctor smiled. "You cut the boy, Cain." He jammed a needle into Yur’s shoulder. The pain vanished instantly as the wound sealed. Cain sneered at Yur with pure disgust. "Get lost before I kill you."

Inside Yur’s mind, something shifted. A massive lock rattled. "Cain, you fool," the Doctor hissed. "You struck the spell. He might recover his memories because of you." Cain grinned. "So what? Where will he go? Run to the Empire?"

The word Empire echoed in Yur’s mind. He would go there. He would find the truth before death found him.