Felix didn't like the sky that morning.
It was too quiet.
Too still.
The clouds hung overhead like pale graves, unmoving despite the breeze. Even the Academy bells rang softer, as if muffled by some invisible hand.
And Cassandra hadn't spoken since breakfast.
Not that she was a chatterbox before—but now, even the occasional glance or cryptic comment had vanished. She sat like a statue on the training bench, hands folded, eyes closed, a low tremor in her fingers.
Julien was the first to voice it.
"She humming again?"
Everyone turned.
"She hasn't said a word," Mira replied. "But I felt something. Like… something's crawling along my skin."
"That's probably just the breakfast stew," Wallace muttered, scribbling furiously in his notebook. "They've started using condensed mana beans again. Side effects include hallucinations, insomnia, and developing a tongue that speaks only ancient syllables."
Leo made a noise of panic.
"I was kidding."
"Were you?!"
