𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂, 𝐍𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 ; 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 ‧₊˚. ⸝⸝

˚₊‧۶ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ৎ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧۶ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 ৎ ‧₊˚

WAKING up is an unpleasant affair at the best of times, but waking up like this? In total darkness, cramped, with an inexplicable feeling of claustrophobia pressing down from all sides? That's a new one. Your senses are dull, and disoriented, your limbs stiff from lack of space, and all around you is something soft yet suffocating, as though you're wrapped in heavy layers of velvet. The unsettling suspicion trickles into your mind that maybe—just maybe—you've somehow wound up sealed in a coffin. The notion sends your heart racing, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, as though the walls themselves are pressing in. The fabric around you feels like it's coiling tighter, adding to the sensation of being trapped.

"Alright," you mutter, swallowing hard against the tightness in your throat, "what fresh nightmare did I wander into?"

Only your own shallow breathing greets you back, swallowed by the suffocating quiet, until—there, in the distance, you hear a faint, disgruntled muttering. Scratchy and irritated, like someone forced out of bed far too early and none too happy about it. The voice grumbles louder, laced with the kind of exasperation that seems to radiate in waves, filling your cramped surroundings with someone else's rather tangible annoyance.

"I better hurry up and get that uniform before someone spots me. Ugh... this lid weighs a ton!"

There's a muffled thud, followed by a scraping noise, and then a triumphant voice rings out: "Try this on for size! Mya-ha!"

The lid pops open with a loud, resounding creak, and you're momentarily blinded as light floods in. You blink, squinting as you try to take in your surroundings, eyes adjusting to the bizarre scene unfolding around you, and as the scene comes into focus, it's like stepping into another world.

You stare, bewildered, as you climb out of what appears to be a floating coffin of your own, its plush interior cushioning you like an overly indulgent velvet prison. You try to process the scene, your mind fumbling for some logical explanation—but before you can fully comprehend this bizarre spectacle, a voice slices through your daze, high-pitched and scathing.

"What?! You're not supposed to be awake yet!"

You glance down, only to be met by the sight of a peculiar little creature glowering up at you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed with all the displeasure of a tiny, disgruntled aristocrat. It's small, grey, and vaguely feline, though 'cat' feels a poor descriptor for something with a tiny flame flickering atop its head. Shadows dance across its face, deepening the lines of its frown and making its already judgemental expression even more severe.

"What the...?" you murmur, utterly bewildered. "What are you?"

The creature's face twists in pure exasperation, as though you've just asked it the dumbest question in the universe. "Ugh! What kinda daft question is that? I'm Grim, the greatest sorcerer in the world! Tch... whatever," he says, waving a tiny paw with an impatient flick, "just give me your uniform and be quick about it!"