Ethan didn't rush.
The hallway wasn't long, but each step felt like it echoed more than it should've.
The soles of his boots made a soft thud against the polished tiles, and even though the place wasn't cold, it had the quiet stillness of a place that didn't belong to the rest of the school.
The walls were plain and clean. The light came down through angled crystal panels above him, casting faint streaks of color across the floor—cool blues and soft ambers that moved a little as he walked, like reflections in shallow water.
Two wide wooden doors stood open at the end of the hall.
No guards. No welcome committee. No tech blinking at the sides.
Just silence.
Inside, the room didn't feel like a classroom at all. It reminded him more of a meditation chamber, or maybe even a shrine.
The room was quiet, but not weirdly or awkwardly. It just felt calm, like everything inside it had slowed down a little.
