Damn The Author

The moment my pen touched the paper, everything else faded.

The creaking of chairs, the scratch of a hundred quills, the occasional suppressed groan from someone who hadn’t studied—all of it became background noise.

This test wasn’t a challenge. It was an opportunity.

I didn’t need to be the strongest here. I just needed them to notice I wasn’t like the others.

I looked at the first question:

Question One:

You are trapped inside a collapsing ruin with a mana-leeching beast. You have no grimoire, no allies, and no escape routes. List three methods of survival using only physical means and your environment.

I thought about it for a few moments. The first question itself was the kind of question that made students panic and write whatever sounded "textbook safe."

I didn’t make a single movement after reading the question. I simply set my pen down and closed my eyes.

Numerous thoughts formed and vanished in my head every passing second.

In my mind, the ruin unfolded like a map. I imagined the stone corridors, the crumbling pillars, the darkness, and the echoes.