Outside the dungeon,
The mana swirl carved into the massive wooden door pulsed erratically, its glow fluctuating with unstable intensity. Each surge sent ripples through the ground, and the professors stationed nearby exchanged grim looks, their anxiety mirrored in the twisting light.
A short distance away, Zane stood casually with his arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold as though it were a passing curiosity. Around him gathered the other professors — Varris Denholm, towering and silent as ever, Iralyn Ashwyn, whose sharp teal-blue eyes blazed with irritation beneath her bob-cut black hair, and Mira Elesyn, the composed mage with a furrowed brow betraying her concern.
Iralyn broke first, her voice sharp with frustration.
"Please, Professor Zane, take this seriously! Our students are inside! We're trying to save them—yet you stand here as if it's some kind of show!"
