Kade taped a fresh paper map to Tycho's steel table. No holo. Pencil behind his ear.
"Teeth are live. Time to see if the jaw works," he said. "We run drills. Then we shut up and listen."
Our guests filed in along the marked rim—one team per continent, exactly as promised.
From the North: two sky-controllers in light flight harness, the Windward crest stitched small. "Lieutenant Skadi" introduced herself with a nod; her partner, "Controller Nari Creighton," said nothing, eyes already tracing currents that weren't there. They didn't need air to work; they shaped mana flow like pilots shaping flight paths.
From the East: three array scholars in gray robes and a Mount Hua elder in plain white travel cloth, hair pinned with a bone pick. "Elder Mei Xue," Seraphina whispered, straightening unconsciously. Elder Mei's gaze flicked over sword, ice flags, my stance—approval withheld, not denied.
