The laughter from the train car felt like a distant memory, tucked away like the comfortable clothes they'd changed out of. Stepping onto the platform in the academy city was like walking into a wall of sound and flashing light. A sea of reporters and paparazzi surged against security barricades, lenses like a hundred hungry eyes searching for a single face: Nero's. Shouted questions tangled into an indecipherable roar.
"Nero! Over here!"
"Is it true about your unique laws?!"
"A comment on your relationship with the Ice Queen!"
"What did the Leclairs really think?!"
But they found only a group of unremarkable students in oversized academy hoodies, hats pulled low, helping a sleepy friend with too much luggage. The disguise was simple, orchestrated by Lux, and it worked. They slipped through a service entrance like ghosts, the frantic energy of the crowd fading into a muffled echo behind thick steel doors.
