PREVIEW

... ir sat at a desk.

It was none other than Gaston Galimar, the headmaster.

He sat motionless, his eyes closed in deep concentration.

The teacup balanced on his fingertips was growing cold, untouched.

“...”

Not even the faintest movement.

The atmosphere was heavy, almost oppressive.

Though silent, it carried an undercurrent of chaos and turmoil.

The old man stood amidst the shattered fragments of a future breaking apart violently.

...

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