The atmosphere inside Class S had shifted from chaotic movement into a strange, uneven calm, where clusters had already begun to solidify into tentative parties while a few stragglers still hovered uncertainly, looking for openings that no longer really existed, the earlier noise settling into quieter pockets of discussion as decisions were being locked in.
At the very back, Damon sat in the middle of the last row in a posture that could only be described as deliberately careless, his body laid back into the seat with his legs spread wide, one arm resting lazily along the back of the adjacent chair while the fingers of his other hand moved in slow, absent patterns, as though tracing thoughts that had yet to fully form, his gaze sweeping across the classroom with quiet calculation as he observed the shifting dynamics.
