The conference chamber, with its imposing obsidian walls, still buzzed with the electric energy of heated debate.
The masters had narrowly survived the shocking revelations from the Frostborne Vault,half of them muttering like seasoned warriors about "thermal differentials" and "mana bleed thresholds."
Master Ulric was caught in a moment of desperation, whispering complex formulae into his tea as if reciting last rites.
The air was thick with the scents of ozone, damp ink, and Keldrin's herbal calming tea, though judging by his twitching hands, it wasn't having much effect.
Nixie slumped across the table, her cheek pressed against the cool stone.
Her voice came out muffled but dramatic.
"If someone utters 'harmonic distribution' again, I'm making a break for it through that window!"
Clair sat upright despite her ink-stained sleeves and hollow eyes,the telltale signs of someone who had spent three sleepless days transcribing technical arguments.
