Zephyrion halted before the imposing walls of the academy. Though the metal aura from Demorian's rod concealed everything down to his very presence, making him undetectable even to the academy's Heralds, he still carefully scanned the area to ensure he hadn't been followed.
Something felt… off. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was, but after another sweep of his surroundings revealed nothing unusual, he pushed the feeling aside and focused on what currently mattered.
Demorian, too, seemed to have the same idea. His half-naked figure had emerged from the rod and now floated beside him, his expression unusually serious.
"So… how are we handling this, Protege?"
All traces of Demorian's usual carefreeness and playfulness had vanished, replaced by a grim look.
