After leaving the Headmaster's office, Liam made his way back through the administration wing with the same calm pace he had carried when entering it, his expression unchanged and his steps unhurried, as if he had not just sat across from a man who had admitted to a decades-long obsession with dark magic.
The halls were quiet around him, the formal stillness of the administrative section slowly giving way to the livelier sounds of the academy as he crossed back toward the student areas.
Anyone who passed him saw only the usual Liam Hunter: silent, detached, and difficult to read. None of them would have known that his thoughts were still arranging Thion's words into separate pieces, turning each one over quietly to decide which parts were useful, which were dangerous, and which were likely meant to draw a reaction from him.
