Back in the Grand Auditorium, the place was a perfect picture of high-class order.
Sylvia von Celestial stood behind the pristine marble podium, her posture flawless. Her long black hair caught the light of the stained-glass windows, and her face carried the exact, ice-cold discipline that the public expected from the Celestial bloodline.
"Welcome, students, teachers, and honored guests from the Astra Union," Sylvia said, her voice carrying easily across the quiet rows of seats.
On the outside, she looked like a terrifyingly beautiful, untouchable leader. On the inside, she was actively imagining a hundred different ways to skin the student council president alive.
But she didn't let her internal rage show. She smoothly continued her speech, delivering the perfect, safe lines about academy traditions and hard work.
"Today, we honor the two hundred survivors sitting in the front rows," Sylvia continued, her cold eyes moving over the crowd.
