Time stretched, minutes feeling like hours, every breath measured, every motion magnified in the spectators' minds. When at last the principals lifted their hands in unison, silence descended, thick and expectant.
The Orb of Accord pulsed repeatedly, a soft, resonant glow spreading through its mist, then gradually settling into a steady calm. The verdict was ready: only fifteen students would advance. The tension hung, almost unbearable, as every participant waited to hear the names that would determine their continuation in the Imperial Examination.
The courtyard fell into a profound silence, the usual murmurs of students and the faint rustle of robes swallowed by the weight of anticipation. The hum of the Orb of Accord vibrated through the air, low and resonant, pressing against the chest and ears of everyone present as if it were measuring the very pulse of the crowd.
