The classroom was bright and quiet. It was just like when things were soon going to be interesting.
Noah sat in his usual place at the back, chair tilted slightly, arms folded loosely over the desk. Around him the other students chatted in low voices or flipped through notes, filling the room with that particular restless energy that came before a class officially began.
Then the door opened.
Instructor Morgana stepped in.
She was dressed sharply today black trousers, a clean white shirt tucked neatly, and a black blazer worn over it with the kind of effortless precision that made it look less like an outfit and more like armor.
Her sky-blue hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that rested over one shoulder. Her amethyst eyes swept across the room once, calm and indifferent, taking in every face without lingering on any of them.
The low chatter died almost immediately.
She walked to the front without rushing, set down the folder in her hand, and looked out at the class.
