"You've all read the memo," the teacher continued, their voice calm, each word even, "You know the exam is a realm.
You know the realm is stable, and you know proctors sit inside with you, whether you see them or not.
You also know stability is a moving target when the past remembers itself. So this will not be a lecture. It will be a sorting."
The room shifted the way air shifts when the weather changes. Backs straightened. Pens stilled.
A few students laughed under their breath, that nervous reflex everyone falls back on when they're told the test has already started and they're still holding a notebook like it's a shield.
It wasn't humor. It was nerves trying to pretend they had control.
"We will start with pairs," the teacher said. "You will not choose your own. Sit where you are. Your partner is the person at your shoulder.
If no one is at your shoulder, you will move to the nearest seat with someone who is not your best friend."
