The morning sun hadn't even finished climbing over the academy spires, and already Class C looked like they'd been dragged through a battlefield.
Julien stumbled onto the training field half-awake, dragging his coat and a croissant. Wallace trailed behind him, muttering something about reprogramming mana flow filters. Leo, of course, looked like he hadn't slept at all.
Then came Felix. Proud. Upright. Eyes full of hope.
I narrowed mine. "Felix."
"Yes, Professor?"
"You wore your robe inside out."
He looked down. "No, I didn't—"
I pointed. "Stitching's on the outside. Tag's flapping like a surrender flag. And unless the academy recently approved 'hobo chic' as uniform standard, you're breaking fashion laws."
"I-I woke up late!"
"Congratulations. You're consistently disappointing before we even begin. Gold star for consistency."
Mira strolled in next, holding a stack of hex slips. "I brought party favors."
