"And that would be all," Instructor Gari's voice cut through the quiet tension of the hall. "You all can leave now."
A shuffle of footsteps followed, echoing against the high ceiling as the students dispersed, their hushed conversations weaving into a low hum.
Excitement, curiosity, envy, it all blended together as bodies filed toward the exit.
But Gari didn't move. His sharp eyes remained fixed on a single figure among the retreating crowd.
Ryan Nether.
The boy walked with a measured pace, shoulders relaxed as if nothing unusual had happened, as though he hadn't just performed in ways no one expected of him.
Yet the further Ryan moved, the deeper Gari's frown became.
'How?'
The question rang in his mind like an alarm.
He had recognized the boy immediately he saw him. The resemblance was there, subtle but undeniable, the set of his jaw, the quiet sharpness in his gaze.
The son of Frank Nether.
