The glowing blue letters on the projection screen burned into Kyle's eyes.
[WINNER: TEAM 7]
Beneath it flashed [Margin of Victory: 0.008 seconds] in the smaller text.
For one frozen moment. The entire observation hall held its breath. Then exploded into chaos.
Kyle's legs finally gave out.
His knees hit the polished marble floor with a solid thump. His palms slapping against the cool surface to catch himself.
All the simulated injuries.
The deep claw marks across his thigh, the arrow graze on his shoulder were gone now that he'd exited the rift.
But his nervous system hadn't gotten the memo. His thigh still burned where the Vorthal had raked him, and his head throbbed like he had been headbutted by a minotaur.
"Kyle!"
Sylvie's voice cut through the noise as she pushed through the crowd of students.
She dropped to her knees beside him. Her oversized wand clattering to the floor forgotten. "Are you—?"
