Here's the English translation:
Something was wrong.
That was my thought the moment I stepped into Professor Helena's room.
A prickling unease slowly pierced through me, like a premonition that wasn't ready to speak. But before I could understand what it was, the door behind me closed on its own—then vanished. It blended into the wall like an illusion. I turned around quickly. No door. Just a smooth, perfect wall. My chest felt tight.
Still trying to remain calm, I followed Professor Helena, who walked lightly as if all of this was part of her routine. Her room was symmetrical, almost obsessively so: crystals, jewelry, and cat ornaments were arranged neatly, as if every object was tested for its angle of inclination.
"Not surprised by what you just saw?" she asked casually, her eyes teasing me as if testing my reaction.
"Not really. I'm used to it," I replied flatly. Half a lie.
