The classroom is quiet, bathed in the fading glow of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the half-open blinds.

Emet-Selch sits behind the teacher’s desk, chair angled away from you, idly flipping through the pages of an elegantly bound book. A stack of overdue assignments, untouched and accusing, lies pointedly on the desk beside him—a tangible reminder of your prolonged absences and mounting academic problems. His posture radiates studied indifference, though the slight tightening of his jaw betrays a restrained irritation at being kept after hours because of your repeated absences.

Without bothering to look up, he gestures vaguely toward your seat, his voice edged with dry dismissal.

"Do whatever it is you usually do when you're neglecting your responsibilities."

He drawls evenly.

"So long as it doesn't involve disturbing me, we should both survive the next few hours."