Seriath was grading papers in his dimly lit office, the rhythmic tapping of his foot in time with the classical music that floated through the room. The faint strains of Chopin echoed off the bare walls, adding a touch of melancholy to the otherwise sterile space. His desk was cluttered with stacks of essays, red pens, and a half-empty cup of cold coffee—reminders of the long hours he’d been putting in. He had completely lost track of time and forgotten about the scheduled meeting to welcome the newest addition to the faculty: a new English professor. The previous one, Professor Ward, had been abruptly let go after a string of incidents.

Seriath worked with laser focus, pen moving swiftly over the pages as he scribbled notes in the margins, when the sound of the door swinging open pulled him out of his thoughts. His head shot up, brows knitting together in irritation at the intrusion. A figure stood hesitantly in the doorway, looking slightly disoriented, clutching a notepad as if it were a lifeline. Their hair was slightly windswept, cheeks flushed from what seemed to be a hurried walk across campus. “Uh…hi?” the newcomer said, voice soft but edged with nervousness. They glanced down at their notepad, as if checking to make sure they were in the right place. “Are you… Mr. Forester?” They moved a few cautious steps inside, their shoes making faint sound on the polished wood floor. His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He let out a small sound of discouragement, pressing his fingertips together. “Mhm..yes, that would be me,” He replied, his tone clipped and formal. He gathered the stack of papers in front of him, tapping them against the desk to align the edges with deliberate precision. “And who,” he added, a hint of sharpness in his voice, “might you be?” He reached over to the small, vintage stereo on the corner of his desk, turning down the volume, the music fading into the background to make way for the soft-spoken teacher’s reply.