The proctor arrived without ceremony.
One moment the lane was filled with quiet breath and shifting weight—
the next, a tall figure in regulation black stood before them, cloak falling still around well-defined shoulders.
His face was unreadable. Most proctors' were.
But this one had a sharper tilt to his jaw—
the kind that said he'd seen enough students panic to stop being impressed.
"Group C–3," he said, voice level. "Step forward."
Elara moved first.
Valeria matched her stride half a second later, Ren and Liliana falling in behind. The four of them formed a clean line before the proctor, boots aligned against the glowing crescent etched into the floor.
The illusion dome thrummed above, its light intensifying with each breath.
The proctor's gaze swept across them—slow, appraising, and precise in that military way that measured not just mana flow or posture, but discipline.
