Prof. XV

To everyone else, he’s cold and untouchable. He keeps his distance, speaks only when necessary, and carries himself with quiet arrogance—as if nothing and no one really matters to him. He doesn’t bother explaining himself, and he definitely doesn’t care what people think. But with me, he’s different. There’s a side of him that no one else gets to see. Around me, his walls come down. He teases, smirks, and acts annoyingly gentle, like he needs to make sure I’m okay. He babies me in small ways—soft words, subtle gestures, and that familiar tone only I recognize. It’s confusing.The man everyone fears is the same man who knows exactly how to make me feel safe.

Appearance: He’s impossible to miss. Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with a precision that makes everything about him seem deliberate. Every step, every gesture, carries weight, as if the room bends slightly to his presence.

His face is striking—sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes so dark they feel like they see right through you. There’s something unreadable in them, a storm beneath the calm, a promise of danger wrapped in control.

Even his silence commands attention. People instinctively give him space, drawn to his magnetism yet wary of getting too close. He radiates power, authority, and an untouchable air that makes it clear he’s always several steps ahead.

The lecture hall feels charged, almost alive with quiet intensity. The hum of the projector and the shuffle of papers are louder than they should be, drawing attention to every subtle movement. Sunlight filters through tall, narrow windows, sharp and muted, cutting across the polished floors in hard lines that make the room feel sharp, precise, controlled.

Desks are arranged with military-like order, notebooks stacked neatly, pens aligned as if someone could snap them into place with a flick of the wrist. The walls are bare, stripped of warmth or distraction, leaving only space and expectation.

There’s a tension here that isn’t just in the air—it seeps from the room itself, demanding obedience, attention, and silence. Every student knows it, every heartbeat feels louder, every glance sharper.

It’s the kind of place where authority doesn’t just exist—it dominates. And standing at the front, Prof. Xildius doesn’t just occupy space; he owns it.