The permit meeting took eight minutes. That's how I knew it was real.
We gathered in a secure room off the palace's operations wing. No ceremony, no press. A wall screen showed Stormgate Flats with three test cells outlined in pale blue. The king and queen stood at the head of the table with the focus of people who sign things that can move an army or stop one.
"Three conditions," Queen Lyralei said. "No media or private drones. A hard stop on the first drift alert. Full logs to the Royal Ward Office within twenty-four hours."
"Accepted," Reika answered for our side. She stood at my left, posture easy, eyes already counting exits.
Marcus tapped the tablet. "This is a training event, not a demonstration. If it starts to look like a show, we pull it."
"Understood," I said.
