The room still held the warmth of people who had been paying attention for a long time. The screens came alive again, steady and pale. There was no music, no signal for applause, just the quiet continuation of work.
Elira lifted her hand. The next clip showed a boy standing at the edge of a drop. He didn't jump. He named the wind.
He dropped a pebble. He waited three counts. On the third, the ledge below him shuddered and slid into the open air.
He stepped back, let the land finish lying, and then found another way around. The room made a sound that wasn't quite sound, the kind that happens when a group learns something through someone else's close call.
A second clip followed. Two students kept attacking like momentum could erase a mistake.
The camera froze the moment their bodies remembered air but forgot breath. The proctor ended it before the field did. The still frame caught them wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
