Arthur watched the dark bulb. No residual fade. No flickering. Absolute termination. The rod held the mana back, acting as a physical dam within the lattice itself.

  Operable.

  Arthur sat with his hands folded on the desk, his face a mask of polite waiting, watching the Instructor navigate the rows of students.

  Sivan Ruarc Vigo moved like a predatory bird, his silver monocle glinting as he inspected the engineering attempts of the class. He paused at a desk in the front row. The student had managed a functional circuit, the light burning steadily, but the setup was pedestrian—a simple bridge that would burn itself out in minutes.

  "Adequate," Vigo murmured, barely slowing his pace. "A functional fire. Pass."

  He moved down the line, stopping briefly at another station where the air shimmered with heat. The student had opted for a crude transfer method; the lamp lit, but the surrounding stone was hot to the touch.

  "Crude," Vigo noted, tapping the desk with a single, disdainful finger. "You are cooking the air, not lighting the room. But the filament glows. Pass."

  He continued his sweep, offering sharp nods and sharper critiques, dismissing the competent failures of imagination with efficient marks on his clipboard. They were all fires waiting to die. Not one of them had solved the problem of entropy.

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  Then, Vigo reached Arthur's desk.

  The lamp was dark.

  The Instructor stopped. The rhythm of his walk broke.

  He looked at the unlit bulb, then at the crystal seated in the socket, and finally at the copper pin protruding from the stone's core. He didn't ask why it wasn't working. He didn't need to ask.

  His eyes, magnified by the silver rim of his monocle, narrowed as he leaned in, reading the runes carved into the copper head.

  "Demonstrate," Vigo said.

  Arthur moved instantly, having already anticipated the command.

  He took up his Rune Engraver, flipping it to the broad, flat side of the blade. He leveraged the tool against the copper head and hooked the stabilizer rod out.

  Flash.

  The lamp shone firmly, without a tremor of flickering. The brilliance was brighter than any other light in the room—not the glare of overexertion, but the piercing clarity of total energy efficiency.

  Vigo made a sharp gesture. Cease.

  Arthur released the rod.

  Snap.

  Darkness. Absolute and immediate.

  A slow, terrifying grin spread beneath the Instructor's mustache. It was the smile of a man who had found a dangerous new toy among a box of wooden blocks.

  "You didn't just build a circuit, Mr. Drevayne," Vigo said, his voice dropping to a purr that only Arthur could hear. "You built a throttle."

  "A fire that burns until it consumes its fuel is not a machine," Arthur recited, his voice flat, borrowing the Instructor's own philosophy to mirror his ego. "It is a disaster."

  Vigo straightened, adjusting his monocle with a precise click.

  "Precisely."

  He marked a sharp, heavy stroke on his clipboard. "Full marks. And Mr. Drevayne?"

  Arthur looked up, meeting the predator's gaze.

  "See me after class. There is a subject that requires much discussion."