Professor Wagner's office is on the other side of the building, away from the classrooms and labs. Normally, Sirenford teachers share several open-plan offices, but the magic faculty seems to have set aside a personal space especially for Professor Wagner.

“Just goes to show how much the Academy thinks of Wagner...” murmurs Cyril as he stands in front of the large wooden door. The sun has long since disappeared behind the horizon and only the wall lights dispel the darkness of the night in this place.

Knock! Knock!

After Cyril knocks on the door, it is not long before he hears a muffled voice from inside the room, but its words are barely intelligible.

“I think that means 'come in'.”

The large wooden door is heavy and as Cyril summons up the strength to push it open, he notices again how his muscles are still aching. The surge of strength from the garden has probably already faded.

“Uhm... Good evening, Professor...?”

Cyril cautiously sticks his head into the office - if you can even call this room an office: The chamber is spacious with high dark red walls. Numerous piles of paper cover the dark wooden floor, along with objects that Cyril can't quite place.

Are they components of magical tools?

His gaze falls on the desk in the middle of the room, behind whose tabletop the young professor emerges.

“Hm? Oh, Cyril Mulligan, am I right? Please, come in!”

Wagner beckons Cyril to the desk.

“Please excuse the mess. I'm working on a big project at the moment and my assistant can't cope with my messy document storage, hahaha!”

Wagner laughs heartily and scratches his chin in embarrassment. At this moment, he doesn't look much like a professor. This is not only due to his young age - he must be around 30 - but also to the almost childlike fascination with which he devotes himself to his work. While other professors exude authority, the young Wagner rarely receives the necessary respect from his students.

“N-No problem...” replies Cyril, looking at the piles of paper and components on the desk. A book lies on the table to one side, its cover and pages old and yellowed.

'Theories about the origin and function of the Lacrima.'

“Yes, that sounds like the kind of reading Professor Wagner would enjoy.” Cyril thinks to himself, but that's not why he's here:

“Professor, I wanted to ask you about a project assignment.”

“Huh? Project assignment?”

Cyril doesn't know why Wagner looks so surprised: Either he doesn't know about a project or he can't believe that Cyril has asked him about one. After all, he's not the type of student who asks for extra work.

“Sudri- I mean Miss Bazma-Kannan had asked about it.”

Wagner's eyes light up as if a realization has caught up with him.

“Yes, of course! I can think of something! Hang on a minute. I'll be right back!”

Humming happily, Wagner turns around and disappears behind a wall of paper. You can hear the professor rummaging around among his junk.

Cyril waits in silence and looks around the room - there is definitely enough to see here. Like a hidden object picture, you keep discovering new objects in the chaos: gears, magic circuit boards and... a kettle?

Suddenly there's a knock at the door.

A student enters the room.

Her posture seems so fragile that Cyril is surprised that she was apparently able to open the heavy wooden door with ease.

“Uh-uh... Professor Wagner...”

Her voice sounds shaky. Her blue eyes peer out anxiously from between her pink, tousled hair.

Cyril can't really tell whether this girl is just very shy or absolutely terrified. Her whole presence radiates an aura of misery.

“Ah, Miss Whitworth!” booms Wagner's voice from the pile of papers,

“As always, you've come at the right time. Could you please take the pile of books on the desk back to the library? The loan period is about to expire.”

“Y-yes, Professor!”

The student's voice is so quiet that Wagner could probably just hear her. With quick steps, she approaches the table and frantically collects the books - including 'Theories on the Origin and Function of Lacrima'.

Wait, that book isn't part of the pile!

“H-hey, wait!” shouts Cyril, causing the students to jump up in shock - she seems to have only just noticed him.

“Uh-uh... S-sorry!” She lifts the stack of books in her hands above her head and bows. The fact that she is physically able to lift such a weight impresses Cyril again.

“I-I'm Hannah Whitworth,” the girl whines, ”Pleased to meet you.”

Before he can point out Hannah's mistake, the student has already left the professor's office.

Well, it's her own fault...

He turns back to the pile of papers, behind which Wagner is still rummaging around.

“Was that the assistant you were talking about?”

“Exactly! Hannah Whitworth,” the professor emerges from between the papers again:

“She is the granddaughter of Clemens Whitworth.”

“You mean the inventor?”

Even for Cyril, who has no great interest in magic technology, Whitworth is a familiar name. After all, many of the components in the magic workshop display that name.

“Exactly!” Wagner affirms again, “She wants to become a great personality in magic engineering like her grandfather and that's why she asked me for an assistant position.”

“I see...”

To Cyril, Hannah doesn't seem particularly energetic or ambitious.

Does she want this on her own initiative or because of the expectations of others?

He can't imagine what a burden it must be to have to carry such a huge legacy on your shoulders. At the same time, Hannah seems so fragile and weak...

“I've found it!” Wagner climbs over the pile of paper and holds a turquoise plate out to Cyril. Cyril has no idea what it is.

“Excuse me, Professor, but what is this?” asks Cyril in astonishment.

“It's a magical tool that a friend of mine has developed. He wants me to test it on as many people as possible.”

“Testing?”

“Exactly! Could you put your hand on it for a moment, please?”

“C-could something happen? Is it dangerous?”

Cyril looks at the plate suspiciously. There seems to be some kind of screen on its edge.

“It only measures a person's brain activity. My colleague wants to use it to revolutionize the medical field. Apart from a tingling sensation, you shouldn't feel anything.”

“I-I don't really know...”

“If you don't help me, I won't be able to give you any information about the project.”

“Hm, okay...”

Wagner is unlikely to put his students in danger for an experiment, and besides, Cyril is happy to help if it's for a good cause.

He places his outstretched hand on the plate and immediately notices how a tingling sensation spreads through his head - just as he notices it, it disappears again.

“Hm, is it broken?”

The plate doesn't move a bit. The screen also remains black.

“Huh...” Wagner eyes the device carefully, “It's always worked until now...”

Are you telling me that my brain shows no activity?

“Oh, don't worry about it, Mister Mulligan. I'm sure the settings got mixed up again, haha.” Wagner puts the plate in a drawer under the desk.

“Anyway, about the project assignment...” Wagner continues.

Exactly, that's why I came to you...

“I had given some students an assignment so that they could collect extra points, but the deadline is tomorrow, so I don't think it makes sense to give it to you and Miss Bazma-Kannan as well.”

And it's no wonder: the semester is already over in three weeks. It's stupid of Sudri to want to start another project now.

“May I ask what this project work involves? You seem to have given all the students the same work, right?”

The professor leans against his desk and looks at a strange object in the corner of the room: it's a human-sized green vase decorated with blue glass.

“I needed help for a potential masterpiece.” Wagner points to the vase,

“I've been working on this magical tool for almost ten years, but it takes incredible amounts of magical energy to test it.”

“Hm, I see.”

“That's why I asked my students if they could collect resin from the Arcadia tree for me. The magical energy it contains is the perfect fuel.”

Cyril tilts his head to the side questioningly.

“Wait, you sent students on gathering missions and gave them extra points for it?”

Cyril would have liked to take part in such an easy way to collect points for the semester...

“I know it has no academic value for the students,” says Wagner, scratching his neck in embarrassment, ”but if this tool works at some point, we'll be able to change the whole world with it.”

“Well, I don't know...”

“The end justifies the means, Mister Mulligan. You'll understand that one day.”

It's no secret that Wagner is absolutely passionate about his work, but Cyril finds it questionable that as a professor he would abuse his position in order to make progress on his private projects. In fact, he no longer really knows whether he can still call the professor a role model.

“What... What can this tool even do, or what is it supposed to do?”

The professor grins broadly. “That's still a secret, but it'll be great when it works!”

As long as I get my simple extra points, I wouldn't ask any more questions, to be honest...

The project topic is over now anyway. Cyril will just go to his dorm now and insult Sudri as an idiot in the morning.

“All right, Professor. I'll be on my way again then. Have a good evening.”

With both hands in his pockets, Cyril makes his way to the huge wooden door just as Wagner stops him.

“Mister Mulligan, listen...”

“Hm?”

“Please take care of yourself.”

“Huh? U-uh, yeah. I will.”

“Watch out for them. They act at night.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I'm sure you've heard of these people.”

“Uh...”

“Penumbra.”

“Penum-...bra?”

“Exactly, it's a terrorist group that has recently become active at this academy. I mean that seriously. I know that you are a very composed person, but the danger posed by Penumbra should not be underestimated.”

“Hm.” Cyril nods.

Penumbra... A group that has recently become active...

Could the mysterious masked man be one of them?

Does the professor know that Cyril will meet the masked man tomorrow?

Is this a warning?

“I'm grateful for your concern, but you don't have to worry about me. Really.”

Wagner looks suspicious for a moment, but then a grin adorns his young face again:

“Of course. Excuse me. I hope you have a nice evening too.”

Cyril smiles back at the professor. His “projects” may be questionable, but Wagner seems to genuinely care about his students.

Should Cyril perhaps not meet Isabell after all?

Trap or not, could a member of Penumbra really become a danger to an unremarkable commoner? Someone like Cyril?