The pressure didn't spike.
It spread.
By the next morning, nothing looked different. The same halls, same routines, same noise drifting through open doors. If someone had walked in without context, they wouldn't have noticed anything at all.
Lucas noticed everything.
He caught himself doing it before he even reached the training wing. A student ahead of him slowed at a corner to let someone pass. Not out of politeness. Timing. Awareness. They were choosing how they were seen, even in something that small.
Lucas shook his head lightly.
"Yeah, this is getting annoying."
Raisel walked beside him, hands at his sides.
"You're adjusting."
"I don't want to adjust to this," Lucas muttered.
"You already are."
Lucas didn't argue.
Training didn't start with the grid.
That was the first difference.
Instead, Halvors stood at the center of the hall, arms folded behind his back, waiting for the last few students to filter in. He didn't look irritated. He didn't look anything at all.
