In a near-empty classroom, occupied by only five figures, a single sunbeam speared through the window, casting a soft, dusty glow.
Yet, the chaos erupting outside was unbelievable. The air crackled with a thick tension, heavy as though a thunderstorm was about to burst. Four of the five people exchanged icy glares, a silent promise of violence hanging in the air.
"Ryan," the pink-haired girl began, sitting opposite him. Her smile didn't reach her cold, emerald gaze. "What are they all doing here? This wasn't the agreement, was it?" Her hands clenched tightly into fists, knuckles white against her pale skin.
"Same," Lyra interjected, her voice laced with suspicion. "What are you doing here... Princess?" she asked, the last word dripping with sarcasm.
