The afternoon sun at Aurelius had a way of making everything look like a filtered photograph. The high, vaulted ceilings of the Psychology block caught the golden hour light, throwing long, dramatic shadows across the polished floors. Ayaan and Meera were walking down the main corridor, their footsteps echoing in a lazy rhythm.

​"I’m telling you, Meera, that 'special' pasta in the canteen was definitely suspicious," Ayaan said, adjusting the strap of his bag. "The texture was just... structurally unsound."