The Grand Auditorium was a landscape of white marble and high arched ceilings that seemed to amplify every sound, from the scratching of pens to the rhythmic, nervous tapping of a thousand boots. It was the center of the Academic District, a place that usually smelled of old parchment and jasmine, but today it was choked with the scent of high grade ink and the static charge of the academy security wards.
Vane sat at his assigned obsidian desk, his back straight. He felt the phantom itch behind his ears, but he ignored it. He didn't need Usurper to tell him the room was a pressure cooker. He could feel it in the way the air pressed against his skin. To his left, Valerica Sol was a pillar of composure. Behind him, Ashe Razar was vibrating with a restless energy that made the floorboards beneath her boots groan.
