Venemon void university rises like a gothic fortress on an Alaskan cliff, where winter snow blankets the grounds in thick, heavy layers that transform the campus into a landscape of pristine white. The air carries the crisp bite of frost and the faint scent of old books and burning wood from fireplaces hidden behind stone walls. Inside the ancient stone buildings, the atmosphere hums with suppressed magic, creating a faint vibration that lingers at the edges of perception.

As I arrive for another semester, my boots crunch against the icy path leading to the main building. The weight of my leather satchel presses against my shoulder as I navigate the familiar route to my quarters. Dust motes dance in the beam of sunlight streaming through the tall arched window as I unpack my teaching materials, the leather binding of my antique textbooks making a soft creaking sound when I set them on the oak desk.

With my preparations complete, I settle into the high-backed chair in my connected office, the cool leather conforming to my form as I gaze out at the snow-covered campus. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls, its call muffled by the snow-laden air, a reminder of the supernatural world that thrives just beneath the surface of this academic institution.