The day started like any other — noisy students, barely functioning minds, and my own grim internal countdown until the next catastrophe. But things took a turn when Felix walked into the room, his face a picture of solemnity. It wasn't like him at all. Usually, if anything, Felix was too expressive—always wide-eyed, always panicking. But this? This was different.
He had a letter in his hands, and he seemed to be staring at it as though it contained the secrets of the universe… or maybe just the answer to his personal apocalypse. He turned it over a few times, probably checking for an invisible trap, before he stuffed it in his pocket.
My eyes immediately narrowed, a reflex at this point. "Felix," I said, leaning back in my chair, "you look like someone just handed you a letter telling you your family's bankrupt and the bank's sending a bear after you. What's going on?"
