The lecture hall in the academic wing was already half-full when Leo slipped into his usual seat midway up the tiered rows. The air carried the familiar scent of old parchment, chalk dust, and the faint ozone tang of active mana practice from the previous class. He set his notebook open, quill ready, and tried to ignore the low thrum of the new cognitive sense that had been humming at the edge of his awareness since he woke.
Professor Ross entered exactly on time, her steps crisp, her expression as sharp and unforgiving as ever. She wasted no time on pleasantries.
"In the earliest stages of study," she began without preamble, voice carrying clearly through the hall, "mana is often described as something simple.
It is not."
