The grinding sound of chalk against the blackboard came to an abrupt halt. The final tap left a thick, stark white dot on the surface, as if marking the absolute end of the spectral entity's patience.

Professor Danu slowly turned his rigid frame around. His broken neck creaked softly, locking his tilted, blood-soaked vision straight onto the rows of student desks. The gaze from his torn eyes no longer radiated explosive fury, but rather a silent demand—a quiet reckoning that forced each of them to strip their consciences bare.

Inside the ice-cold room, the suffocating stillness grew so dense it choked their throats. Yet the terror that had dominated their minds all evening was beginning to shift. The haunting vision of the white pill bottle, the lonely bedroom, and Professor Danu's tears of absolute despair from a few hours ago remained burned into their minds with unbearable clarity.

The fortresses of ego they had glorified in the university halls had completely collapsed tonight, leaving nothing behind.

"Professor..."

The voice originated from the front row. Dinda Clarissa—the student who had always boasted about her family's luxury vehicles and elevated social standing—slowly slid off her wooden chair. Her knees struck the cold concrete floor, uncaring of the pain.

"I'm sorry, Professor... Please forgive me..."

Dinda wept uncontrollably, covering her face with violently trembling palms. Tears poured down her cheeks, washing away every last trace of her former arrogance.

"I drafted that complaint letter. I lied to the dean's office, claiming you were incompetent, when the truth was I was simply too lazy to read. I thought... I thought my family's money and influence could control everything on this campus. I didn't know that letter would destroy your life... I didn't know, Professor!"

Dinda bowed her head all the way to the floor, her shoulders shaking violently under the crushing weight of her remorse.

Professor Danu remained motionless. The blood on his cheeks had dried into dark, ghastly tracks beneath the dim, flickering red fluorescent light.

Watching Dinda prostrate herself, Gani looked up from the middle row. The heavily built young man breathed in short, shallow gasps. His face—usually defined by hot-tempered aggression—was drenched in tears. His memory drifted back to the moments when he felt untouchable in class, mocking Professor Danu and turning him into a laughingstock on social media.

"I... I'm a monster, Professor," Gani stood up with a shaking frame and staggered toward the front of the room. He collapsed beside Dinda, dropping to his knees with his head bowed low.

"The eraser prank on the door... that was me. I recorded it on purpose just to get laughs in the batch group chat. I laughed at you when your batik shirt got covered in chalk dust. I never imagined my stupid joke was making you weep alone at home... I'm so sorry, Professor! I swear to God, I regret it!"

Gani pressed his forehead against the floor repeatedly, his weeping breaking into a mournful wail. He was no longer begging to be spared from death. At this point, the agony of knowing he had driven a human being to suicide was infinitely more agonizing than the threat of his own mortality.

Humanity's deepest remorse is not encountered when facing death, but when realizing that they themselves were the monsters who manufactured someone else's demise.

One by one, the remaining fortresses dissolved. Reno helped Vanya to her feet. Both stepped forward with tears streaming down their faces, kneeling directly behind Gani and Dinda.

"We know we were wrong, Professor Danu," Reno spoke, his voice quivering as he held back a sob. "I always thought I was taking the high road because I never actively pulled pranks on you. But tonight I realized... my silence, my choice to stand by as a bystander and laugh along when you were humiliated—it was just as cruel as what Gani did. We were all negligent. We're so sorry, Professor."

Beside him, Vanya wept hysterically, hiding her face behind Reno's back. "Forgive me, Professor... Please forgive Vanya..."

From the back row, Arin embraced Sela, who seemed to be regaining her composure as the dark visions in her head subsided. Arin's tears fell onto her best friend's shoulder.

"Come on, Sela... let's apologize to Professor Danu," Arin whispered raspy.

With weak, unsteady steps, Arin supported Sela as they walked to the front of the room. Beneath the dim red glow, all six students were now kneeling on the concrete floor, surrounding the professor's desk. Classroom 3B, which had been filled with shrieks of primal terror all night, transformed into a sanctuary of confession, filled with genuine sobs of remorse echoing from the deepest corners of their souls.

They came to realize an absolute truth: the living Professor Danu had perished hours ago from a lethal dose of sedatives, but the wounded, grief-stricken piece of his spirit remained trapped in this room alongside them. They were not facing a random ghost, but a direct mirror reflecting their own sins.

A quiet, solemn atmosphere blanketed the room. As the tears of the six students soaked into the floor, the bone-chilling, suffocating cold began to thaw. The metallic stench of blood slowly yielded to a tranquil stillness, as if the very walls of the classroom were bearing witness to their collective confession.

Professor Danu, who stood rigid behind his desk, slowly lowered his right hand. His broken, inverted head creaked softly as it rotated back into its natural position. His hollow eyes gazed down at the six young people prostrated at his feet, radiating a profound, sorrowful weight—before everything finally fell silent.