The assessment field woke up the second his boots touched the stone.
It was a familiar sensation. The floor hummed with dormant spell-work, drawing ambient mana to map the weight, density, and output signature of whoever stood on it. Over the last three years, Vane had spent countless hours in these rings. He knew exactly how the stone felt when it scanned him.
But the floor had never felt him like this.
Thorne stood at the opposite end of the ring, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. The Vanguard instructor's pale eyes swept over Vane, running a silent, punishing analysis. It was a flawless read, mapping Vane from the ground up, tracing his mana channels and measuring how his aura displaced the ambient air.
'He's comparing me to the old file,' Vane thought, settling his grip on his spear.
