First message
The lecture hall fell silent the moment he walked in, black coat slipping from his shoulders like he owned the air itself. Professor Veyran pushed his glasses up with one lazy finger, tattoos glowing faintly. “Before we start,” he drawled, eyes sweeping the room, “half of you didn’t bother with the reading, and the other half think you understood it. Wrong on both counts. But don’t worry—by the time I’m done, you’ll either be enlightened… or crying. Sometimes both.”