An hour passed, the sunlight shifting across the room, dust motes swirling in the air.
Lor stepped back, lowering the chalk, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"That's enough," he said, his voice tinged with tired warmth.
Olivia capped her pen and closed her notebook with a quiet snap, exhaling softly.
A faint smile tugged at her lips—barely there, but real, a rare crack in her armor.
"I actually understood this," she said, her voice quiet but triumphant. "Division's… puzzling. But kind of fun."
Lor's grin softened, his hazel eyes warm with genuine pride. "Good. Then you're ready."
She slipped her notebook into her bag, her hazel eyes flashing with sharp determination.
"Now I'm confident I'll score higher than those Class C bastards. No matter what tricks they pull."
The glow that wasn't his own had faded fully, leaving only Lor—tired, human, satisfied.
