The two old friends sat quietly for a long time after their conversation.
Then the Emperor smiled, a genuine grin of an old friend reminiscing, not the calculated expression of a ruler.
"Enough talk," he said, setting his glass down. "It's been too long since we truly moved."
The headmaster's eyes sparked with similar enthusiasm. "You want to go a few rounds? At our age?"
The Emperor chuckled—a deep, sincere laugh that filled the study. "Age? Please. You're as fit as the day we graduated. And I'm tired of sitting around planning. I want to feel something."
The headmaster stood up, a slow smile on his weathered face.
"You're on. But not here. This mansion wouldn't last five seconds."
The Emperor nodded and stood as well. He raised his hand, giving a simple gesture—a twist of his fingers, a pulse of will. The air in front of them shimmered and then tore open, revealing a swirling portal to another place.
