A FEW MINUTES AGO.
The night was brisk and cold. A stormy weather that ran deep to the earth's core.
The moon's luminance was blurred by the cacophony of clouds that hung low. Deep and Dark, they have an eager tendency to rain tears on the surface of the Earth.
Thunder ran deep in the clouds. A vibrant cry from the moody clouds, lit up by the sharp crack of lightning.
The scene, captivating yet humbling, was a startling representation of the downfall the Academy was brewing.
Still, the Moon's glow that diffused through the clouds and glowed within the Night was the Academy's effort to stand their ground.
In the midst of these, the conspirators ran through the cubicles of the Staff Building. Silence hung in the air, except for the echo of their boots that pulsed life into the still building.
