The gateway shimmered softly as the team emerged one by one, the ethereal glow of the mana-transition fading behind them.
The moment their boots touched the polished stone of the academy's central staging plaza, a subtle breeze swept past—cool, fresh, and so different from the heat-choked fog they had just left behind. The contrast was sharp enough to feel like a physical shift. Real space. Real ground.
And despite the ache in their limbs and the wear in their joints—there was a buzz among them.
Adrenaline hadn't quite faded yet.
"Well," Layla said first, adjusting her shoulder strap and exhaling hard, "that went way better than I thought it would."
Jasmine groaned, flexing her neck. "I still have no idea how you keep tanking that crap and walk out without falling over."
"Years of spite and training," Layla said with a smirk.
