The gray fog that Professor Powell summoned dulled the surroundings around the students subtly.
It didn't just reduce visibility; it muted sounds, dampened external disturbances, and wrapped the training ground in an unnatural stillness.
It wasn't suffocating, but it was disorienting, making it impossible for students to perceive further than 15 meters from their location, hence sending their senses into overdrive.
And it was in this altered atmosphere, that Professor Powell disappeared from the location he was standing on, his voice reverberating from every corner of the open classroom, as he began his lesson.
"Perception," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the haze, "is not just about seeing. It is about understanding."
His tone was steady, deliberate. He was not simply lecturing—he was teaching, and his every word had weight.