As Damon stepped closer, the white sphere drifted ahead of him and passed through the entrance, guiding him inside, and just outside the doorway, slightly to the side, an old man sat on a wooden chair placed beneath the shade of the overhanging roof, his posture relaxed as he leaned back slightly, his gaze lifted toward the open sky as though watching something far beyond what the eyes could normally see, while a calm, almost content smile rested on his face, giving the entire space around him a quiet, settled atmosphere.
"What brought you here?"
The old man spoke without turning his head, his voice gentle yet carrying a clarity that made it evident the question was not meant for Damon.
Damon paused.
His eyes shifted toward the white sphere.
Who is this old man…?
There was no visible authority in his posture.
No imposing presence.
And yet—
He seems to know the dean..
The sphere hovered slightly forward, and the Dean's voice emerged from it, composed as always.
