On the outskirts of Alria, on the idyllic-looking island of Exodus, scars from recent events still lingered beneath the surface.
At the heart of this green haven, nestled in a clearing, stood Genesis Academy : a massive stronghold of knowledge and power, where the future pillars of the world were being forged under great expectations.
The main building, made of white stone and stained glass, rose like a moderncastle—sothing between an oldfortress and a futuristic gastructure.
All around, Genesis flags flew proudly : a sky-blue circle with a white "G" at the center.
Simple, almost as if the institution wanted to ignore the complexity of the real world. But inside these walls, nothing was simple.
The gardens were silent, the benches empty, the dorms still unoccupied.
The mood was far from festive, despite the day’s event : the official integration ceremony for the surviving students of the GenesisConvoy.
A convoy that, for so, never reached its destination.
The grand auditorium was packed with a kaleidoscope of personalities.
The architecture was dignified, even auster : an amphitheater of wood, massive glass panes, and chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling.
On the left sat the first-year students—the ones who hadn’t lived through hell.
On the right, families, nobles, spectators...
And at the center, the convoy students. The ones who had co face-to-face with death. The ones who no longer had the sa gaze as when they boarded.
Among them was young NatsukiShigeo—short black hair, black suit, clutching a notebook to his chest.
His fingers trembled and his jaw clenched. His eyes scanned the crowd, again and again.
He wasn’t there.
— "Dante." Shigeo swallowed.
He couldn’t accept it. Johanna, daughter of the powerful DonQuixotte family, had told him countless tis : Dante wouldn’t be coming.
But his heart refused to listen. It rejected the mourning people were trying to force on him.
He hoped—no, he waited. Maybe Dante would burst in at the last minute... just like when they first t.
On stage, DirectorArchonThyris, an austere man with a noble bearing and silver-gray hair, was speaking in a calm, steady voice.
His long purple robe brushed the floor, embroidered with gold threads.
He spoke with the gravity of a wise man.
— "...What you experienced, dear students, is not a rite of passage. It is not a life lesson. It is a tragedy. But from this tragedy cos... responsibility. The responsibility to bear witness."
He paused.
Then, one by one, students were called to speak.
Haunted faces. Grim stories. mories far too heavy for shoulders so young.
So cried as they spoke. Others froze, reciting words they’d morized beforehand.
Then it was Shigeo’s turn.
He stood slowly, like an old man. He didn’t want to go up. He just wanted to stay there, waiting for Dante.
But his legs moved on their own.
Spotlights flicked on him. He climbed the steps like a man walking to the gallows.
At the mic, his eyes searched again—nothing. No Dante. No terrifying Ginny.
Only unfamiliar stares. Expectant faces. A room full of silence.
He opened his mouth.
Nothing.
His throat was dry. His mind fogged.
— "I... I... the convoy... I wanted to say that... there were bombs... I defused..."
He was falling apart.
A worried murmur rippled through the crowd.
The director leaned into the mic with kind warmth.
— "Mr. Natsuki has endured an extrely traumatic experience. Just standing here today is an act of courage. Please, let us welco him."
Polite applause followed as a dal was placed around his neck.
The boy stepped down slowly, drained. Eyes downcast. Sha burning in his chest.
And just then, the entrance doors to the auditorium blasted open with a kick.
A loud thud. A ray of light cut through the dim hall. A gust of wind swept in as every head turned toward the doorway.
— "Who the hell is that now..." whispered a student.
And there, frad in the light : DanteGodwin.
ssy hair, dark circles under his red eyes, dressed in an oversized hospital gown, barefoot.
Behind him, Ginny stood surprisingly upright, and Youpi... was asleep. Sprawled out on a mattress of his own.
Dante jogged in, vaulted up onto the stage, yanked the mic out of the headmaster’s hands—nearly knocking him over—and let his voice thunder through the speakers :
— "WHO said I was dead?!" He yelled, making the mic screech and the crowd flinch.
The room froze.
Nobles gasped in outrage. Shocked whispers spread. A journalist dropped her tablet. So teachers stood, alard. Others... smiled subtly.
In the stands, Johanna covered her mouth. Torn between fury, disbelief... and a relief she couldn’t admit out loud.
Dante shrugged, and with one motion, grabbed the dal ant for him and pinned it onto his hospital gown like a badge of defiance.
Then he turned to Shigeo, who stood frozen.
He held out the mic to him.
— "Hey. You weren’t done. Get back up here."
Silence.
— "Co on, Shigeo. Don’t be scared of your audience. Tell them. Spit the truth right in their faces."
Shigeo... nodded and stood.
This ti, climbing the steps with a pounding heart—but not from panic.
This ti, it was sothing burning in his chest. Sothing he only felt around Dante : courage.
He gripped the mic with both hands, glanced at the crowd, then looked away—right at Dante.
He was standing sideways, arms crossed, a half-smile on his lips, exuding confidence.
Ginny at the door, quiet and proud. Youpi snoring in the corner, slumped against the lighting console like he owned the place.
Shigeo took a breath. His eyes scanned the judgntal nobles, the professors in suits, the anxious students, the present parents, the caras, the flashing lights.
All the people he finally wanted to speak to.
So he spoke.
— "...My na is Natsuki Shigeo.
My voice trembled earlier... but now it’s not from fear. It’s trembling from anger."
A ripple in the crowd.
— "I saw students get torn apart by mitanats. I saw kids screaming in agony. I saw staff crying like children. And —I was running around defusing bombs—while so people, maybe even in this room, were watching it on TV like it was a damn show."
The silence thickened.
— "So I’m gonna say it straight. What we went through—it wasn’t just an attack. It wasn’t a ’security incident.’ It was a goddamn betrayal. And I’m not just talking about so outside enemy. I’m talking about this rotten world, infected by people like Doc C."
So students flinched at the na.
— "Yeah, I said it. That ’genius,’ that ’liberator’ to so. That doctor you all follow online, the one so of you still defend... He’s just a lunatic. A coward hiding behind you. A butcher. And if you support scum like him—you’re no better."
The room tensed. A man stood to object, but sat back down when he caught Shigeo’s glare.
— "People died, damn it! Friends, classmates—they had families... and all for so twisted ideology. While I was putting my life on the line, where were you?! Where was the support? Where were the apologies?!"
Shigeo was breathing hard. His voice was hoarse now.
— "You know what kept going? What stopped from breaking? It wasn’t your dals. It wasn’t your speeches. It was him."
He turned toward Dante, who stood still. A little surprised. A little moved.
— "Dante helped . He took hits for . He gave strength when I had none. Him, Ginny, Helena, even Zara... Those people were more human in one night than most of you are in a lifeti."
Glances exchanged. So students lowered their eyes.
Shigeo wiped his tears with his sleeve.
— "So yeah. I’m not scared anymore. I lived through hell, and I’m still standing. I’m gonna keep going. And I hope... you do too."
He let his arms fall.
Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled. A nervous, liberating laugh—like a weight had finally lifted.
— "Damn, that felt good."
And the room erupted in applause.
Not polite clapping. Real, honest applause. Loud and warm.
From students, teachers. Even a few nobles.
Caras flashed, lights flared.
Two kids in hospital gowns—a fragile hero and a half-dead troublemaker—stealing the spotlight from an entire institution.
Dante held out his hand, and Shigeo gripped it tight.
— "Wasn’t that hard, was it ?"
— "Thanks..."
In the crowd, Johanna wiped away a tear. She wanted to scream at Dante, slap him, call him an idiot.
But she also... smiled.
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