The common hall buzzed as breakfast wound down, the stone walls echoing with the scrape of benches and the clink of empty plates
Wooden tables sat cluttered with crumbs and drained cups of watered wine, the air still heavy with the smell of meat and bread
The mages started to peel away, some lingering to talk, others heading out toward the training yards for day one
Gon stayed at his table, finishing the last of his pork, his mind on the three days ahead, quiet swings, subtle moves, staying off everyone's radar until the Royale
He'd let the others strut and fall early, the Battle Royale was where he'd show up, not before
A figure moved past his table, quick and sharp, her sleeve brushing the edge of his plate
It was the lithe girl with the glowing orb, Mira, he'd call her for now, her jaw set hard, hair flicking back as she walked
The orb hovered at her shoulder, a fist-sized ball of light spitting faint sparks, humming low like a wasp ready to sting
