Revelation

In the heart of the academy, far from the chatter of students, a man sat in a dimly lit office, his presence casting a shadow that seemed to fill the room. His face, weathered and stern, bore the heavy weight of anger, the kind that simmers just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. His eyes, dark and hollow, held the gaze of the lone lamp that flickered above, casting a devilish glow over his furrowed brow.

Across from him sat a female student, her posture tense, shoulders drawn up as if trying to make herself smaller in the face of his simmering rage. Her long, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall of gold, its luster dimmed by the dread that clung to her like a second skin. Her face was delicate, almost fragile, with soft features that might have evoked innocence, but right now, it was tight with fear, her eyes downcast as if they dared not meet the burning intensity of the man before her.