Morning sunlight spilled across the academy like molten gold, washing over ancient stone towers, polished courtyards, and banners newly raised for the occasion. The light clung to every surface, catching on metal edges and silk threads, transforming the entire campus into something brighter, sharper, and more alive than it had been in days.
There was movement everywhere.
Students crowded along stairways, leaned dangerously from balconies, climbed low rooftops, and pressed against walls despite repeated warnings from instructors. Some had arrived before dawn to secure better vantage points, while others forced their way forward through sheer persistence, unwilling to accept anything less than a clear view.
The usual discipline of the academy had loosened—not out of neglect, but by design.
Because today was not a day for restraint.
Today was meant to be seen.
Today was meant to be remembered.
The official team representing the academy at the National Championship would depart.
