A year passed.
Was it a year?
Truthfully, Ezekiel didn't know what a year was in the outside world's time.
The hidden manor didn't allow its students to keep track of time, nor did it teach them how to.
Ezekiel figured out the units of measure by eavesdropping on the instructors, but he could only assume how long each unit actually was.
Nevertheless, a year in his time had passed.
It was enough time for the talents to cycle. New ones entered and old ones left. As for those who remained through the transition, a large number of them disappeared mysteriously.
They'd been deemed unfit, so they'd been killed.
'This isn't the first time, so it's not like it's surprising.'
Life was mundane in the hidden manor.
Sure, there was a lot going on. Every day was filled with trials and tribulations that tested one's grit and forced one to grow stronger.
However, even that became mundane after it was done for decades.
