It began like a tremor in the bones of the Sorcerer Academia.
A subtle vibration in the air, almost unnoticeable at first—until the wards began to shriek.
The tranquil hum of morning activity shattered into chaos as deep, resonating alarm chimes rang out across the sprawling campus.
The sound wasn't just loud; it pressed against the mind, an intrusive warning that burrowed into the skull and rattled the nerves.
Doors slammed open, students spilled into corridors, wide-eyed and frantic, and the cold pulse of cursed energy spread through every hallway like the ripples of a storm breaking over stone.
From the tallest spire of the central tower, the principal appeared—an austere figure cloaked in layers of midnight fabric embroidered with gold wards, his gaze like sharpened steel.
Behind him, high-level teachers materialized in streaks of cursed light, each one bearing a presence heavy enough to crush lesser sorcerers to their knees.
