The Arcanum Guild Hall reeked of incense and hypocrisy. Jack stood on the obsidian dais, sweat trickling down his spine as the examiner sneered. "Prove you're not a fraud. Conjure a water orb."
The crowd jeered. A noblewoman tossed rotten apples at his feet. "Worthless immigrant!" she spat.
Jack's fingers twitched. The seven watch fragments pulsed in rhythm with his pulse—tap-tap-tap. He remembered Orlan's warning: "They'll test you till you break."
"Water orb," the examiner repeated, twirling his wand.
Jack's middle finger rose. "How about a frost tornado?"
He snapped.
The room erupted in screams as ice shards erupted from the floor, encasing the examiner in a spinning vortex of daggers. Shards ricocheted off the vaulted ceiling, shattering stained glass saints. Pandemonium broke out—until the shards froze midair, forming a perfect snow globe around the frozen bureaucrat.
Guildmaster Vayne stepped forward, his scarred face a mask of calculation. "Impressive." His skeletal ring glowed as he pointed at Jack's chest. "But your magic consumes reality itself."
The guildhall doors burst open. Three crimson-robed Inquisitors flooded in, their leader's voice slicing through chaos: "Acolyte Wilkes exhibits forbidden temporal resonance!"
Jack lunged for the exit, but the frost tornado exploded outward. He crashed through a stained glass window, the seven fragments burning deeper into his flesh as he plummeted into the city sewers below.