Villainous Instructor at the Academy

The Academy felt wrong.

Not in the obvious way—not like shattered glass or blood on the tiles. No, it was subtle. A shade too quiet. A second too long between each bell chime. A flicker in the torchlight where none should be.

The kind of wrong that makes you glance over your shoulder for a breath that wasn’t yours.

And I knew—without question—that the Echo wasn’t sealed anymore.

It was watching.

Waiting.

And it had chosen someone.

"Professor?" Mira’s voice broke my thoughts.

I looked up from the rune sequence I’d etched across my chalkboard. She sat cross-legged on the front desk, twirling a quill between her fingers. Julien leaned against the window frame, arms crossed. Felix was dozing. Leo was scribbling half-heartedly. Garrick was balancing a textbook on his head.

But Cassandra... she wasn’t here.

Again.