And just like that—between quiet banter and subtle chaos, wide-eyed panic and suspicious smoothie explosions—time marched on.
The cafeteria buzz softened as trays emptied, fries dwindled, and drinks were drained. Somewhere overhead, the class bell finally rang, cutting through the chatter like a polite sword.
Rex stretched with a lazy yawn, grabbing his half-finished milkshake and standing up. "Time to return to the dungeon," he murmured, dusting off imaginary crumbs from his sleeves.
Elara quietly rose beside him, clutching her tray like a shield, still pink around the ears. She looked like someone who had barely survived a mild hurricane and was still deciding if it had really happened.
Students started filing out, some still chewing, others fumbling with water bottles and phones. But many passed by Rex with quick words:
"Thanks again, man!"
"Appreciate the lunch!"
"You're a legend, Rex!"
