Compensation (3)

The academy grounds stretched before him, eerily devoid of life.

Lyrium stood alone in the vast courtyard, his figure dwarfed by the grand architecture that once teemed with students and scholars alike.

But now, an unnatural stillness clung to the air, wrapping around him like a suffocating veil.

The usual hum of activity—the laughter of students, the rhythmic clang of practice swords, the murmured incantations of spellcasters—had vanished without a trace.

He had sensed it the moment he left his dormitory.

A strange, insidious wrongness permeated the very atmosphere, gnawing at the edges of his awareness.

The absence of life was not merely a coincidence; it felt deliberate, as if the entire academy had been swallowed by an unseen force.

His gaze swept across the deserted expanse, his sharp eyes scrutinizing every shadow, every corner, searching for any sign of movement.