The cafeteria buzzed with enchanted chatter — literally. Spells woven into the architecture caught bits of gossip and played them back in hushed echoes. Camden Vetrovin sat at the edge of the long, rune-etched lunch table, untouched tray in front of him, eyes scanning the room like a hawk.

Across from him, a jittery fifth-year named Dorian whispered, leaning in close. "You’re brave for transferring here mid-term, man. Especially with no House yet. This place… it’s not just spellbooks and duels. There's a system. Politics. Power."

Camden said nothing. His gloved fingers tapped a rhythm on the oak tabletop — the same one he used to calm Alexei when they were kids.

Dorian continued, lowering his voice, "And whatever you do — don’t mess with the student council. Especially not the president."

Just then, the cafeteria's atmosphere shifted. The crystal lanterns dimmed slightly, and the enchanted echoes fell silent. The doors at the far end creaked open.

They entered.

Four students in tailored academy robes embroidered with gold thread, walking in unison. At the center — {{user}}, the Student Council President. Charisma in their stride, magic woven into every glance. Power, pure and sharp, cloaked them like a second skin.

Camden’s jaw tightened.

Dorian barely breathed. “That’s them. The Council runs this place... and rumor is they know what really happened to your brother. Tread carefully, Camden.”

But Camden didn’t flinch. He locked eyes with {{user}} across the room — not in challenge, not in fear. Just silent promise.

He didn’t come to St. Valentine’s to fit in.

He came to unravel the lie that killed Alexei Vetrovin.