However, nothing really happened.
The shimmering light faded.
The strange sensation ebbed. Nolan's breath steadied, and his vision cleared.
The classroom somehow looked as it had always been—bright, humming with mana energy, and filled with laughter, light footsteps, and the occasional shout of "I dodged that!", "No way, that hit me?", "Watch me, I will defeat it with my eyes closed!", "Huh? That's impossible!", "I will do that too!", "Hey! Don't copy me!", and "Hah! I will beat you to it!".
Nolan would shake his head. And then, he looked around slowly, his gaze resting on the students, caught in the throes of victory and playful rivalry.
Their eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed with excitement, and their smiles—those wide, unguarded, youthful grins—carried a kind of purity that Nolan hadn't seen in a long, long time.
A very long time.
The sight stirred something in him.
Something familiar.
