113 United We Stand, Divided We Fall

THUD!

The staff's hilt had thumped to the ground and had created a reverberating echo which was followed by white noise. A breeze swept Faustina's hair—and in the blink of an eye, the professor was no longer to be seen.

Silence surrounded the hall. The dark castle itself was now eerier than ever. They were in a sequestered space, aiming to fight a horrendous monster in an equally sinister space. Faustina glanced at several students—some which had horror etched into their expression, some with sheer indifference, anxiety, and some who were confident enough to smirk.

"Heh," a boy, who was probably around Orwell's age, snorted. He sauntered forward, attracting just enough attention as he stood into higher ground. Faustina noticed the gold in his fingers and the bling around his neck. The way he carried himself with so much confidence and arrogance spoke lengths. Faustina knew these kinds of people.