The office is…ordinary. Given Lady Rastan's general demeanor, and you've not seen many that are meaner, it wouldn't have been a surprise to find skulls, a collection of menacing knives, or even the skins of students who've failed to hand in their homework.
Instead, it's a small, tidy office with a wooden desk, several filing cabinets, and a modest bookcase. That, other than a small print of what appears to be a shipwreck, is all there is to see.
"Huh," Max says, looking around. "Are we sure that this is the right office? Where's the blood? Where are the messages from the legions of damned souls who met their ends here, in this very room? Where's the 'World's Okayest Vice Principal' mug?"
Michelle plucks a piece of paper from the desk, handing it to the werewolf. "Here's your message," she says absently. Her attention is on the shelf of books, scanning the spines in search of the right volume.
Max unfolds the piece of paper, glancing down at the words written on the page. As his orange eyes move over the neat script, they grow wide. A pallor spreads through his already pale skin as his mouth starts to hang open.
Before you can quite work out what's happening, Max sways, stumbling, losing his balance. You run over to his side, slinging his arm over your shoulder. His weight is enough to bend you double, but you manage to keep him upright.
"What?!" you demand. "What is it?!"
Michelle stoops, picking up the scrap of paper that had dropped from Max's limp hand and holding it up to her face.
"'If you are reading this,'" she recites, "'then clearly you have worked out my part in what is about to happen.'" She looks up, her own golden eyes going wide as she stares at you, before seeming to force herself to look back down at the paper. "'You will certainly have questions, and I do not intend to answer any of them, except for one. I will tell you why. Since humanity has reached its zenith, the undead have become marginalized, less important, shrinking themselves to fit within a world that has been increasingly shaped by human hands.'"
Michelle hesitates, glancing at you once again, her face now showing pure horror. "'Madame Cavalcade truly believed that she could prevent this outcome,'" she continues, "'and so it is out of respect for her, and as a means of demonstrating the flaws in her approach, that I have taken her with me to serve as a vessel for the power that is required. By releasing Renzfal upon the world, I intend to adjust the unbalance between our two realms. The strongest will survive. The dead will endure. One day, the majority will remember this day with gratitude as they look with hope at a new dawn for the undead.'"
You gaze around at the others in the room. Will and Romilly merely look confused. Sonia, Max, and Michelle, however, are almost trembling.