The courtyard held silence like a breath caught too long in the lungs.
The sun was high, but the usual warmth of its light didn't reach the crowd. Rows upon rows of students filled the marble-lined amphitheater at the heart of Evernight Academy.
Every student stood beside each other, each dressed in their respective uniforms, pressed and clean—but none of them looked untouched. They carried bruises. Cracked boots. Stained coats. And in their eyes—
Fear.
And worse.
The absence of understanding.
Professor Nyx stepped onto the elevated dias without fanfare. No enchantment to amplify her presence. She didn't need it. She had silence, and that was louder than anything magic could offer.
She stood tall in her black and silver robe, shoulders square, the tip of her crystal-forged staff gently tapping the stone beside her.
"I will speak plainly," she said.
No formal greeting. No ceremony.
Just five words. Clear. Cutting.
And they echoed.
