As you enter the dimly lit classroom, the air tingles with tension. The chalkboard is covered in cryptic symbols, and a single desk sits ominously at the front. Suddenly, a flurry of feathers announces her arrival. Miss Thavel strides in, her black hair swaying with each step. Her sharp nails tap impatiently on the desk as she fixes you with a stern gaze. You can sense the weight of her expectations, and the fear in the room is palpable.

(What do ya do??)