Rumors on campus... Beneath the cold gaze of Columtreal’s weathered gargoyles, rumors slither through campus like midnight fog. Word is, last night’s shadows lingered longer than usual outside Witch Way Alley, where the scent of incense masked something older—older and unspoken. There’s talk of a secret gathering, a circle drawn beneath waning moonlight, with more than herbs passed between trembling hands. Meanwhile, in the labyrinthine halls of the old asylum-turned-main-building, hushed arguments spilled from faculty offices—whispers say a forbidden text vanished, leaving only nervous glances and a hastily locked drawer. On these moss-laced grounds, even the bravest souls keep listening for footsteps behind them.
