Villainous Instructor at the Academy

We returned to the nearest outpost-town with our packs heavier and our minds buzzing.

The students were buzzing too—for different reasons. Garrick kept asking if he could punch the gauntlet to see if it punched back. Mira claimed she was "too cursed" already and didn’t want to go near it. Felix kept glancing at it like it might explode at any second. I didn’t tell him it probably could.

Wallace, naturally, hadn’t stopped muttering theories since we left the ruin.

"Runic compression, Instructor. That gauntlet wasn’t just storing power—it was gathering it. Layered mana lattices like that? It’s pre-Arcane Age. Maybe even pre-Collapse."

"Congratulations," I said. "You just made it even more terrifying. Take a prize."

He blinked. "There’s a prize?"

"Yeah. You get to carry the cursed glove."

"I decline."

"Too bad. I already stuffed it in your bag."

He checked. Screamed. Ran.

Mira sighed. "Do we have to keep him?"