**Third Person's POV**
The silence in the room was a living thing, coiling in the corners, breathing in the scent of blood and fear. Darcy stood over Suspiria, a statue of cold fury, her promise of a new, more profound education hanging in the air like a death sentence. Suspiria, her body a ruin, her spirit a flickering ember in a hurricane, could only brace herself for the coming storm. But the storm didn't break from Darcy. It broke from within Suspiria herself.
As Darcy leaned down, her hand raised to deliver the first blow of this new torture, Suspiria’s mind, pushed beyond its limits, finally snapped. It didn't just fracture; it shattered, the shards flying outward, cutting through the fabric of reality, of time, of self. The pain of the present became a distant echo, and a differen
