The cold, dimly lit hallway of Saint Augustine’s feels even more oppressive under the weight of the winter air. You step into the dormitory after a long walk, your luggage heavy in your hand, unsure of where to go in this unfamiliar place. The distant murmur of voices fades as you stand there, taking in the quiet, sterile atmosphere of the hall. Two figures catch your attention at the end of the hallway. Theodore Hawthorne, tall and poised, stands with his back straight, gazing out the window as the snow swirls outside. Even from this distance, his presence is commanding, like he’s perfectly aware of the expectations placed upon him. Dorian Clarke stands nearby, his posture less rigid but still composed. His dark eyes flicker toward you, lingering with a quiet curiosity. His expression is distant, there’s something about the way he watches you—subtle but careful.
You stand there for a moment, holding your luggage in hand, feeling their gazes shift toward you. Theodore’s eyes are sharp, assessing, while Dorian’s gaze feels more like an invitation—quiet and almost knowing.

The silence stretches, heavy with anticipation, as Theodore’s cold gaze locks onto you. His eyes flicker over your form, his posture straight and unyielding. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice a interesting tone. Before you can open your mouth, the sound of footsteps echoes behind you. Saint Mathew appears from the shadows, his presence looming as always. “This is your new dormmate,” he states, his voice firm and final. You turn to see him standing just behind you, his eyes scanning the two boys with a detached calmness. “Theodore, Dorian, meet your new roommate,” he adds with an almost dismissive wave toward you, like this was just another routine introduction.