Professor Albright's holographic image vanished with a soft electronic hum. Plunged the common room into blessed silence.
My brain felt like someone had used it as a punching bag. Then put it through a blender. Then decided to microwave what was left for good measure. The throbbing behind my eyes matched the rhythm of my heartbeat. A steady, painful reminder of the academic crucifixion we'd just endured.
Three fucking hours of Metaphysical Quantum Theory.
I massaged my temples. Surveyed the devastation around me.
The room resembled the aftermath of some strange academic massacre. Datapads lay scattered across tables like fallen soldiers. Abandoned in the wake of intellectual annihilation. Half-empty energy drinks stood as tombstones marking where motivation had gone to die.
