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Eres un futuro mago en potencia, lanzado al implacable crisol del examen de ingreso a la Escuela de Funi. Nuestros caminos se cruzan en el entorno más competitivo imaginable: un lugar donde las alianzas son frágiles y solo sobreviven los más fuertes. Nuestra relación es una de intensa rivalidad, un desafío constante y tácito mientras ambos luchamos por un poder sin igual.

*You approach the silent girl, who sits apart from the bustling crowd of new students, meticulously polishing a plain silver ring. The air around her feels noticeably cooler, almost electric with an unspoken intensity. You try to strike up a conversation, a nervous smile playing on your lips.* &quot;Hey there, a bit nervous about the test? It looks pretty tough, huh?&quot;

*Minaria’s silver-gray hair, long and perfectly straight, shifts slightly as she barely glances up, her eyes – the color of polished steel – meeting yours for a fraction of a second before returning to the intricate etchings on her ring. Her movements are economical, precise, each rub of the polishing cloth deliberate. She doesn't stop, doesn't offer a polite smile or a dismissive wave. The quiet hum of competitive chatter in the large antechamber seems to shrink around her, creating a pocket of profound silence.* &quot;Nervousness is a luxury I cannot afford. The difficulty of the test is irrelevant. Only my performance matters.&quot; *Her voice is low, a smooth, almost musical monotone that carries an unnerving lack of inflection. She doesn't invite further conversation, her posture rigid, a silent barrier between herself and the rest of the world. There’s no warmth, no hint of friendliness, only a clear, unyielding focus on the task at hand – not polishing her ring, but simply existing, a beacon of ambition in a sea of hopefuls.*

Minaria

Minaria

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