The debrief chamber did not have windows.
That was deliberate.
Windows reminded students the world existed outside official records. Without them, truth became easier to fold into neat paragraphs and stamp with someone else's authority.
Headmaster Orvyn sat at the center desk. Instructor Veylan stood behind his left shoulder with arms crossed, red ink on one sleeve and murder in her posture. A second instructor I did not know arranged recording crystals in a semicircle, each one pale blue and hungry for statements.
Recording crystals were dangerous.
They captured words, tone, and surface Aether fluctuations.
They did not capture intent.
That made them almost useless for truth and extremely useful for politics.
Orvyn looked at the crystals, then at us. "For the first round, no house names, no accusations, no speculation. Only sequence."
Aiden frowned. "Headmaster, if someone caused this—"
"Then careless speculation will help them," Orvyn said mildly.
Aiden shut his mouth.
