The strategy room inside the Edelhart private dormitory was dimly lit, illuminated mainly by the pale blue glow of a recording crystal resting in the center of a heavy oak table. Above the crystal, a magical projection looped the same five seconds of combat footage over and over—Ivan Baker accelerating into a blur, his heavy sword carving a devastating arc through empty air.
Alex sat at the head of the table, his eyes tracking the projection. Beside him, Lily carefully unclasped the fragile heat-sink bracelet from his left wrist.
"Hold still," Lily murmured, her brow furrowed in concentration. She used a pair of fine silver tweezers to remove the fractured cooling crystal from the center of the device. The crystal had cracked during Ivan's near-miss in the joint training session, the sudden surge of heat overwhelming its capacity.
