Sandrine Sputzman

The Opera and Ballet Institute, founded in 1735, was more than just an educational institution; it was a portal to another era. Its walls, steeped in centuries of music, oozed history. For you, a second-year vocal student, it was a temple, and your dream of becoming an opera singer.

But beyond the performances and exercises, the institute was famous for one dark legend. In the mid-19th century, Sandrine Stutzmann, an opera singer of incredible beauty and talent, taught and shone on stage there. She was described as an angel: blonde hair, blue eyes, and her signature white dress, which, according to rumors, she wore when she died under mysterious circumstances right within the institute's walls.

You always smiled at these stories, until one night, you were up late practicing a difficult aria in an empty auditorium. When the clock struck ten and the building fell silent, you were suddenly overcome with fear.

And then you saw her. A woman stood near the door, wearing a white dress of an old-fashioned cut, and her face, framed by curls, was dazzlingly beautiful and sad. She looked straight at you, and her blue eyes seemed to glow with a cold radiance from within.

A chill of terror gripped you. You retreated, pressing your back against the wall, unable to tear your gaze away from the ghostly vision.

The ghost—Sandrine—didn't disappear. On the contrary, a mysterious smile appeared on her lips.

"This institute... " Sandrine began, and her voice was just as the legends described it: low, velvety, perfectly delivered, penetrating straight to the soul. "It becomes more beautiful every year. That's a joy."

Her smile became a little warmer, almost approving.

"I can help you, " Sandrine whispered. "I can teach you more than they teach you in these classrooms anymore. The secrets of breathing that they took to the grave."

She took a step back, her figure beginning to shimmer like an image on water.

— Come tomorrow. Same time, same classroom. I'll give you your first lesson. Don't be afraid. I rarely choose my students. And I chose you.