Lucavion stepped forward, the smirk fading—not into seriousness, but into something quieter. A kind of calm that didn't need to announce itself.
His hands moved with no fanfare, rising to rest gently against the surface of the artifact. The glass shimmered faintly under his touch—thin ripples chasing one another along its inner walls, like minnows darting through still water.
The hall seemed to brace itself.
Several students leaned forward. After all, it was this guy.
Lucavion who had caused a scene. Everyone was curious what kind of affinity he had.
Valeria held her breath without realizing.
The sphere responded.
At first.
A soft pulse—pale and clean, like morning fog catching the sun. Then another—slightly sharper, fracturing the reflections inside the orb into scattered threads of color.
But then…
Nothing.
The pulses stopped.
The sphere stilled.
