2.Mr. Johan? Dante?

Impossible. No matter how I looked at it, there was no way out.

I stood before the gate, staring at the sharp iron bars gripping it like metallic fangs. Their tips were razor-sharp, as if ready to tear apart anyone foolish enough to approach. This was not just a barrier. It was a prison, deliberately built. But by whom? Who had the power to embed these bars so deeply, merging them seamlessly with the walls that enclosed us?

My gaze remained fixed on the fence. Each iron bar driven into the ground carried a question that hung in the air, unanswered. Perhaps this was why Mr. Damian suspected there was more than one culprit. Something of this scale could not have been done alone.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice pulled me from my thoughts. I flinched, turning to see Mr. Damian standing there. His gaze was serious, his tone deep and firm.

"I know this place seems safe, but that is no guarantee. Danger could be lurking at any moment. You are aware of that, are you not?"

His words echoed like a warning carrying weighty consequences.

I let out a breath. "I know. But there is a lot on my mind." My voice was quiet as my eyes narrowed again, scanning the iron bars for any details I might have missed.

Mr. Damian stepped closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. Warm and steady.

"Everyone feels the same way. But for now, let those thoughts go. Let us head back to the hall. You know it is time for breakfast."

His voice was soft, like cotton pressing against a wound, healing it without force.

I gave a small smile, whether at his words or the unexpected warmth spreading through my chest amidst the biting cold.

Now, I stepped into the hall. The tension from last night, once hanging thick in the air, had vanished like mist dissolving under the morning sun. No more anxious faces. No more suffocating fear. The students chatted, laughed, and shared their meals as if last night had been nothing more than a fading nightmare.

Before I realized it, my lips curled into a faint smile. There was a warmth settling in my chest, seeing them carefree again, as if the storm had never touched their lives.

"You are really kind, you know that?"

The voice came out of nowhere, making me jolt. Dante, moving as lightly as a shadow, now stood beside me. His ever-mischievous eyes locked onto mine with a knowing look, and his usual playful smirk was already in place. I turned to him, only to find his chin a little too close, prompting me to push him away with a light shove.

"You are so weird," I muttered, half amused, half annoyed.

Dante chuckled, unfazed. He casually reached for my shoulders, then began massaging them gently. "You must be tired. Here, let me ease your stress," he said, as if offering an escape from all burdens.

It was nice, but I lightly tapped his hands, signaling him to stop.

For a moment, silence settled between us before I finally asked, "So, what about Vitra?"

My question hit its mark like an arrow piercing through his carefree act. Dante froze, his hand reflexively scratching the back of his neck as his gaze darted around, searching for a way to escape.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

I grinned, returning his teasing energy with a mischievous glint in my eyes. Now, it was my turn to have the upper hand. Leaning in slightly, I whispered, "So... Dante? Since when did you like Vitra?"

As expected, his eyes widened, his body tensed. His breath hitched before he finally let out a long sigh, as if surrendering to a truth he could no longer hide.

"I knew it. You were bound to figure it out," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing a long-held secret.

"I do not just like her. I... love her."

Dante said it with conviction, his voice steady. But the red creeping up his cheeks betrayed his composure. His hand remained behind his head, as if trying to mask his embarrassment beneath a casual stance.

I was speechless. Hearing him say it out loud sent a ripple through my chest, though I could not tell if it was from surprise or just the warmth of sincerity. Without realizing it, I gave a small nod, urging him to continue.

But Dante hesitated. He seemed unsure, as if the words he wanted to say were too heavy to voice. His blush deepened, his eyes darting away.

"And since when?" I finally asked, my voice low, filled with curiosity.

Dante looked like a cat hesitant to pounce on its prey, wanting to speak yet reluctant to admit it. After a moment, he let out a deep breath and answered, "From the beginning."

I took a step back, letting his words settle in my mind. A part of me was happy for him, seeing his honesty. But another part felt oddly skeptical.

A playful smirk crossed my lips as I nudged his shoulder, teasing, "So, how is your relationship going?"

But my question was like a sudden gust of wind snuffing out a candle's flame. Dante's smile faded instantly. His once-bright eyes now gazed downward, empty, as if searching for something long lost. The red in his cheeks disappeared, replaced by an expression too difficult to decipher.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"You know..." Dante finally spoke, his voice quiet and heavy, carrying something indescribable. "I think it is one-sided."

I lowered my head. Those words carried an invisible wound, a silent sorrow. There was something in the way he said it that made my chest tighten, as if I could feel the burden he bore in silence.

Without thinking, I pulled him into a tight hug.

"Do not worry, man," I said warmly, my voice soft like a breeze meant to lift his spirits. "As long as she is single, you still have a chance. You can keep trying to make her fall for you."

Dante remained still for a moment before, slowly, a small smile returned to his face. Subtle, yet real. His eyes, once dimmed, now flickered with renewed determination.

"Thanks," he said simply, yet his words carried a depth of meaning that needed no further explanation.

A little later, we, the members of the Art Club, gathered in a circle in the hall, sharing the instant meals the teachers had prepared. The tense atmosphere from before had completely dissolved, replaced by warmth and laughter. The worries that had shackled us last night gradually faded with every bite we took.

I picked up my spoon, eating in peace, savoring the rare moment of tranquility. But then, I noticed something, or rather, someone.

"Vitra, why are you not finishing your food?" Petra suddenly asked, her attention drawn to Vitra, who seemed more interested in snacks than her meal.

The girl merely glanced up briefly before mumbling with a full mouth, her words muffled by the chips she was munching. "Not really hungry."

Feldard sighed, responding like an older brother scolding a younger sibling. "At least this is more filling than just snacks, you know."

Vitra let out a small huff, puffing her cheeks like a sulking child. The expression was so natural and so endearing that I found myself glancing at Dante. And there he was, cheeks tinted pink, watching her intently.

"Yeah, yeah, I will eat later," Vitra finally said, though her hands continued reaching for the chips.

We all exchanged glances before simply nodding, letting her enjoy her food in her own way.

Then, without warning, Mr. Damian stood up. A wide smile stretched across his face, so much so that I raised a brow, curious about the sudden shift in his mood.

With a loud voice that echoed throughout the hall, he raised his hand and announced, "The signal is back! We can finally call the authorities for help!"

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Then, like waves crashing onto the shore, a surge of joy swept through the hall. Cheers erupted, laughter and relieved tears mingling together.

And with swift movements, without hesitation, Mr. Damian picked up his phone, dialing the hope we had all been waiting for.

"I thought I was going to die."

"Thank goodness everything is okay."

"I miss Mom and Dad."

One by one, the voices echoed through the hall, resonating with emotions that could no longer be contained. Laughter and sobs blended together, like a symphony of hope finally finding its joyous melody. I smiled, feeling the same happiness as them. My friends did too, smiles were etched on their faces, as if the burdens that had bound them for so long were slowly lifting.

Yet, amidst it all, one figure remained unmoved. Nathan.

In the midst of all the excitement, he sat there quietly, his gaze empty, focused on his food as if the world around him did not exist. Something about his indifference stirred a sense of triumph within me. With light steps, I approached him.

"See, Nathan?" I said, my tone filled with victory. "There is no demon. We are going to get out of this soon."

Nathan lifted his face, glancing at me briefly, expressionless and unreadable. But in the next instant, his face shifted. He frowned slightly, as if annoyed, before murmuring under his breath, his words barely more than a whisper lost in the air.

"The demon exists..."

I sighed, trying to hold back a laugh. "But you see it, do not you? The police will be here soon, and we will all be safe. Why do you not just admit it was all in your imagination?" I teased, hoping to dismiss the absurdity of his thoughts.

But instead of getting angry or snapping back, Nathan merely smiled. A thin smile, not one of relief, not one of joy. Something was wrong. Something suffocating.

And in a voice barely louder than a breath, he spoke:

"I told you before, did not I, Noir? We are just pawns. And if the number of unnecessary pawns grows, then we simply eliminate the ones that are not needed."

His words slammed into my mind like a brutal punch, freezing my blood on the spot. It felt as if my heart had just stopped beating, as if my own sense of reason refused to process the sentence that had just left his lips.

Around me, the sounds of laughter and cheerful chatter still filled the hall, but they felt distant, too distant. All that remained was me, Nathan, and the words lingering in the air, cold, threatening, and shaking the reality I thought I knew.

"What do you mean, Nathan?" I asked, my voice trembling, not out of fear, but from an unbearable sense of unease. I stared at him sharply, letting my emotions take control, even though I knew it was a mistake.

Dante moved to stand behind me, his body tensed, ready for anything should the situation spiral out of control.

Yet Nathan remained still, unfazed. That unsettling smile was still on his face, as if he was savoring every second of this moment. In a calm tone, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, he spoke again.

"I am just telling the truth. Azazelle is not something that can be defeated by the police or even by the strongest humans."

My blood boiled. Without thinking, my hand shot forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt roughly. I pulled him closer, forcing his eyes to meet mine, filled with anger.

"Shut up with that nonsense," my voice was firm, nearly a growl.

Dante moved, trying to intervene, but I did not let go. My grip on Nathan's collar was tight, as if I wanted to etch my words directly into his chest.

But all I saw was that same thin smile, not one of panic, not one of fear. A smile that knew something I did not.

Dante and Saphta quickly pulled me back, separating me from Nathan before my emotions could push me further. I could still feel the anger pulsing in my chest, my breaths heavy. My grip had loosened, but the dissatisfaction still burned inside me.

As the tension in the air refused to fully dissipate, Petra stepped forward. Her eyes were sharp and unwavering, and when she spoke, her voice carried a weight that could not be ignored.

"You should control your emotions better."

I looked up, meeting Petra's gaze as she stood firm before me. Her words hit me like a hammer, reminding me that I could not afford to lose control so easily. But I clenched my teeth, still unwilling to fully accept it.

"I know..." my voice was quiet but still laced with emotion. "But still, he talks as if human lives are nothing more than pieces to be played with. I cannot just let that slide."

Petra sighed, then gave a small nod, understanding my feelings. But this time, her voice softened, warm, as if trying to soothe the fire still raging inside me.

"I get it too. But remember, we do not know what kind of situation awaits us. Uncontrolled emotions can lead to our downfall."

I stared at her for a few seconds before finally nodding in silence. She was right. I had to stay calm.

Now, I chose to distance myself from the crowd. I sat apart, trying to clear my mind. Beside me, Dante, Saphta, and Vitra remained, keeping silent company.

I glanced at Vitra, who sat relaxed, still enjoying her potato chips as if nothing had happened. The hall was still filled with euphoria, but my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

I turned to Vitra, finally voicing the question that had been gnawing at me.

"Vitra, were you not scared of what you did last night?" I asked, my voice still slightly shaking from the lingering emotions. "I mean... that hallway was so dark, and you went alone just to get chips. Even I would not have dared. Why are you so calm?"

Vitra turned to me, her eyes filled with that same mysterious calm. Her mouth was still busy chewing, but after a moment, she answered in a quiet voice.

"Because Nathan gave me this."

Casually, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small stone. It was green, shimmering like an emerald freshly unearthed from the depths of the earth. I frowned, taking it from her hand, feeling its smooth and cool surface against my palm.

Dante and Saphta leaned in, their eyes locked onto the mysterious stone.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice full of curiosity.

Vitra swallowed her last bite of chips before answering in a flat tone that I could not quite decipher.

"Nathan said it would protect me from any danger, even Azazelle."

In that moment, my heartbeat quickened. I turned to her sharply, my eyes widening in shock that I could not hide.

"Azazelle..." I repeated the name in a whisper barely audible. Then, with a deeper voice, I asked, "Vitra, do you know something about Azazelle?"

Vitra looked at me straight on, her expression unchanged, calm and unwavering, as if she already knew far more than I ever expected. And then, without the slightest hesitation, she nodded.

"We understand each other," she said quietly but with weight. "So yes, I know about Azazelle."

I fell silent. For a moment, the air around me felt heavier. The joyous sounds of the hall now seemed distant, fading into meaningless noise.

My eyes searched hers, looking for something, truth, reason, or maybe just a warmth to ease the turmoil in my chest. But all I found was emptiness.

My hand clenched into a fist, my voice trembling as I finally asked, though deep inside, I had a feeling this was something I should not dig into any further. But I did it anyway.

"What do you mean by protecting? Even from Azazelle?"

The words left my lips softly, almost swallowed by the noise around us. I knew Vitra heard them, but she remained silent, still chewing her chips nonchalantly, as if my question was nothing more than a passing breeze.

Seconds stretched into suffocating silence. Until finally, without urgency, she spoke.

"No matter how strong Azazelle is, it still has its limits."

Her tone was clearer now, more certain, as if she was stating an undeniable truth.

"Even though it has not fully manifested yet, its presence will only grow stronger, night after night."

Her words cut through me like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. The air around me felt heavier, as if the entire room had suddenly shrunk, pressing against my chest with an unexplainable dread.

I stared at them with eyes full of anger, my breath caught in my throat, and from my lips escaped a question, its voice almost dragged down by the trembling I could not stop.

"So, you mean you already suspected there would be casualties back then?"

My eyes trembled, and so did my voice. The emotions I held back grew heavier, building up second by second, like a rising tide ready to drown everything around it.

Yet, Vitra showed no reaction. They simply continued eating their chips, their gaze flat, as if the world I had just unveiled was nothing more than a fairy tale unworthy of serious attention.

I clenched my fists tighter. I knew. I could see the answer in their eyes, even though they said nothing.

They did not care.

"You and Nathan are the same..." My words finally spilled out, sharp and boiling with hatred. "Only caring about yourselves. Only seeing us as pawns to be moved at your convenience."

I took a deep breath, but my voice still trembled as I continued, "But I will tell you this, I will never accept it. I will never believe it. No matter how many times those words are spoken."

My feet stepped backward. I did not even realize when I started retreating, as if my body refused to remain near Vitra any longer.

Behind their empty gaze, I knew.

They did not see this as something worth discussing further.

They did not see death as something to be mourned.

Saphta followed behind me, silent and wordless. But I could feel their presence, as if they understood my turmoil without needing to ask.

As I neared the exit, Dante was still standing there.

He glanced at Vitra once more, his eyes showing no anger, only something that resembled curiosity or perhaps one last hope that this was all just a misunderstanding.

With a voice that was calm yet weighted, he asked, "And we are just supposed to believe their words like that?"

Vitra slowly turned toward him, their eyes still flat, expression unreadable. But when they spoke, their voice was unwavering.

"Why not?" they said. "I believe in every second and every word that comes from Nathan."

For a moment, Dante simply looked at them. Then, he nodded slowly without saying anything more.

And finally, he turned around, following my steps as I walked away, leaving Vitra alone, sitting quietly in an atmosphere that now felt colder than before.

The rain poured mercilessly, tearing through the dark sky with thousands of cold needles, drenching the earth without pity. Each drop felt like a hollow whisper, whispering memories that refused to fade, seeping into the empty spaces within my chest.

Tonight was no different from the nights before, dark, suffocating, and filled with uncertainty hanging in the air. The police still had not arrived, like a shadow of hope slowly dimming, leaving us trapped in lingering doubt.

I sat, hugging my knees tightly, letting the cold of the night creep into my pores, sinking deep into my soul. Occasionally, my mind drifted back to the moment that had just passed, the explosion of anger, the words that cut deep, and the distance now stretching between us.

Had I gone too far? Should I have held myself back?

Beside me, Saphta and Dante sat without speaking much, their presence like an anchor keeping me from drifting too far into the storm raging within my mind. Somehow, just having them here made me feel a little lighter, as if I was not completely drowning in solitude.

The silence that bound us was finally broken by Dante's voice.

"Damn, now we have all ended up separated," he said, his voice half-joking yet laced with an unmistakable bitterness. "I hope we can make up someday."

His words hung in the air like a prayer hidden between the sounds of the rain.

Saphta turned to him, then offered a soft smile, a reassuring one, as if trying to replace the light that had dimmed on this cold night.

"I hope so too," they said warmly. "It does not feel right if we are not together."

I lifted my head slightly, letting their words sink into my consciousness. Then, with a weak yet resolute voice, I finally spoke.

"I am grateful to you both," my words escaped slowly, almost drowned by the heavy rain. "Sorry that we ended up splitting apart. I just need to cool my head for a bit."

Dante and Saphta did not say much, only nodding silently.

But in that quiet moment, they reached out, gently patting my back, a gesture that said they understood without the need for many words or lengthy explanations.

That I was not alone. Even as a storm raged inside my heart, there were two people beside me who remained, who ensured I would not sink too deep into the darkness.

The sky remained overcast, leaving behind traces of rain that had poured down earlier. The air was still cold, gripping our bodies with a silence that cut deep. But amid the gloom that loomed, Mr. Damian's loud voice shattered the stillness, reviving the spirits that had been buried in fear.

"The police have arrived!"

In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. The students, once engulfed in anxiety and despair, now looked at each other with eyes brimming with light. The darkness that had gripped their hearts slowly faded, replaced by a hope that began to reignite.

Smiles started to bloom, the suffocating fear gradually giving way to an overwhelming sense of relief. Some of them turned toward the gate, watching with anticipation as the police got to work, tinkering with the lock that had kept us trapped in uncertainty.

With the tools they brought, the gate that had once been tightly shut finally opened. The officers entered the school grounds with firm, confident steps, exuding an aura of authority that made everyone feel just a bit safer.

Even so, we were still instructed to stay in the hall, at least until they could confirm that everything was truly safe.

Mr. Damian stepped forward first, explaining the chronology of events to them, while the others began to scatter, searching for traces of the perpetrator who might still be hiding inside or had already vanished into the darkness of the night.

I stood among the crowd, gazing at Nathan and Vitra, who were seated in the corner of the hall. Around them, Petra, Alexander, Revika, Hyday, and Feldard had gathered, their faces holding various expressions that were difficult to decipher.

Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my hands together nervously, trying to steady myself before stepping closer to them. There was something weighing on my heart, something that needed to be said before things drifted further apart than they should.

With a slightly trembling voice, I finally spoke.

"Nathan, Vitra, I am sorry."

All eyes turned to me, but I continued speaking, making sure every word came out sincerely.

"I think I went too far earlier. I am really sorry. I should have controlled myself better."

Silence followed for a moment before Nathan nodded quickly, as if he had anticipated these words. A smile spread across his face. There was no anger, no resentment, only a calm understanding he shared with me.

"I understand," he said, his voice light yet full of sincerity. "I am sorry too for overreacting."

I looked at him, then turned to Vitra, who had always been hard to read.

She remained silent for a moment before finally speaking, her tone softer than before, calmer, as if she too wanted to put this behind us.

"Just pretend I never said what I said earlier," she murmured, looking straight into my eyes. "I am sorry."

There was something in her gaze, something that had been rare to find there before—regret.

I stared at her deeply before slowly reaching out, gently patting her head, something I rarely ever did.

"Yeah, I am sorry too for getting mad at you earlier," I said in a warm tone.

In an instant, the tension that had filled the atmosphere slowly melted away.

One by one, smiles returned to their faces. Alexander let out a small chuckle, Petra sighed in relief, while Revika and Hyday exchanged glances, their expressions more at ease.

The long journey filled with disputes had finally found its resolution. There were no more words that needed to be said, no more wounds that needed to be deepened.

Only relief, warmth, and the hope that after tonight, maybe things could return to the way they were.

The night grew older, wrapping the school in a blanket of silence that hung in the air.

We, the members of the Art Club, sat in a circle as we usually did, a long-standing habit that provided comfort amid the uncertainty surrounding this night. Light conversations flowed between us, discussing various topics to chase away the lingering traces of tension.

However, our moment of togetherness was abruptly shattered by a loud thud.

"Bang!"

Feldard, with a frustrated expression, slammed the floor with his bare hand. It was an impulsive action that resulted in only one thing: inevitable pain.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" He quickly pulled his hand back, blowing on it gently. His face contorted as he tried to endure the stinging sensation.

Soft laughter erupted from some of the people in the circle, including me. There was something ironic about the moment. The tension that had just filled the room was now slowly fading, replaced by Feldard's innocence and foolishness.

Yet, behind the laughter, a lingering question hung in the air, filling his now-calmed mind.

"Ugh… I don't get it… Why haven't the police evacuated us yet?" he grumbled, still clutching his aching hand.

Alexander, who had been sitting with his arms crossed, let out a long sigh. His sharp eyes stared at Feldard with a calm, almost cold expression, like someone who already had the answer before the question was even asked.

"Before you ask that, why don't you check the time first? What time is it now?" he said, his voice flat but firm.

In unison, we turned to look at the clock hanging on the hall's wall. The hour and minute hands were almost touching at a single point, forming an undeniable number—23:50. Almost midnight.

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted.

The night had grown so late, darker than before, thick with mysteries still hanging in the air. We all knew that at this hour, the world outside had slowed down. The streets were empty, the city lights were dim, and the sounds of the night whispered faintly in the distance.

Alexander spoke again, his voice softer this time, more like someone trying to offer understanding rather than merely answering a question.

"Besides, the police can't guarantee our safety completely as long as the perpetrator hasn't been found."

His words lingered in the air, filling the room with a bitter realization that slowly seeped into our minds.

"And if there's even a chance the perpetrator has a firearm, that would be extremely dangerous."

That statement hit Feldard quickly, leaving him with nothing but a small nod. His eyes, once full of complaints, dimmed slightly, realizing that the situation we were in was far more serious than he had thought.

Silence fell over the room once more, with only the sound of our breathing adjusting to the reality before us. Outside, the night wind whispered, as if carrying a message we could not quite hear.

The night deepened, wrapping us in a thick blanket of stillness.

In the corner of the room, shadows swayed gently under the dim light of the lamp. The cold air slowly crept in, slipping through the gaps in our clothes, carrying the dampness from the relentless rain outside. The sound of raindrops pattering against the roof created a monotonous rhythm, a lullaby that was faint yet piercing deep into our consciousness.

I could feel drowsiness creeping in, one by one, like a silent fog, luring us into slumber.

Vitra, sitting not far from me, yawned a few times. Her small hand covered her mouth, her eyes losing focus. Her head drooped slightly, as if weighed down by the growing fatigue. This atmosphere felt like an unseen conspiracy, luring each eyelid to slowly close, to surrender to the dreams that quietly approached.

That silence was finally broken by Nathan's gentle voice.

"Are you sleepy? Why don't you just go to sleep?"

His tone was calm, almost like a whisper. There was something about the way he spoke that felt incredibly soothing, as if he was guiding Vitra with a natural tenderness.

Vitra nodded slightly without saying a word. With light steps, she walked toward her sleeping mat, letting her body sink into the comfort waiting there.

On the other side, Petra let out a long sigh before speaking in a lazy, complaining tone.

"I'm sleepy too…"

Her hand rubbed her eyes gently, her fingers twirling a part of her bangs that had fallen onto her forehead. There was something in the way she spoke, something that felt like more than just a simple complaint.

Then, her eyes glanced at me. Briefly, then again.

I frowned, feeling slightly confused by her actions.

Petra sighed again, this time deeper, and spoke once more.

"Ugh… I'm so sleepy…"

Her tone was louder than before, and this time, her glance at me was much clearer, much longer, much more demanding.

I swallowed hard, cold sweat forming at the back of my neck. What was this? Was I supposed to pick up on something?

Petra rolled her eyes, then clicked her tongue softly before muttering, loud enough for me to hear.

"Clueless as always…"

Without waiting for my response, she turned around and walked toward her sleeping mat, leaving behind an air of confusion lingering around me.

I could only remain silent, letting the stillness take over the room once more. The rain outside continued its steady song, the night sky still hidden behind its dark veil.

And amidst all of that, one thought filled my mind. What exactly did Petra want just now?

The clock struck precisely at twelve, marking the turn of the day as if creeping in silence. The night grew older, wrapping us in its thick and quiet embrace. Some students had already drifted into sleep, their breathing steady, their faces still adorned with faint smiles as if the world of dreams was kinder than the reality they had faced today.

Yet, amid this hanging silence, there were those who remained awake, eyes staring at the ceiling, their minds filled with the looming thoughts of the morning to come. Only one thing occupied their minds. Tomorrow was the day of freedom.

I sat in the corner of the room, hugging my knees in a silence heavier than the piercing cold of the night. My head was still filled with riddles that refused to be solved. Petra.

What did she mean earlier? Why did she act like that?

I tried to push the thoughts away, drowning them in the relentless flow of time. But like waves returning to the shore, my mind kept circling back to a single name. Petra.

I took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs before glancing toward Dante. He lay there with half-lidded eyes, his body seemingly struggling to surrender to the drowsiness slowly gnawing at his consciousness.

Without realizing it, I called his name.

"Dante… Dante."

My voice was barely above a whisper, almost lost to the sound of rain still dancing outside.

Dante shifted slowly, his heavy eyes turning toward me, full of quiet curiosity. There was warmth in his gaze, even as his eyelids threatened to close.

"Hm? What is it?"

His voice was lazy, yet it carried a familiarity that made my chest feel lighter. I looked at him for a few seconds before offering a small smile.

"Nothing. Just making sure you're still awake."

Dante sighed, raising an eyebrow before shutting his eyes again.

"Of course. I'm still here, aren't I?"

His answer was simple, but for some reason, his words felt like a reminder.

Yes, he was still here. We were all still here. Together in this silent night, waiting for the morning to take us home.

The night deepened, draping the world in thick shadows. The rain that had been pouring down slowly subsided, leaving behind the scent of wet earth mixed with the crisp, biting air. The windows of the hall were fogged up, reflecting the dim light of the lamps, as if they too had succumbed to the night's quiet slumber.

I shifted slightly, feeling a discomfort that refused to fade. Perhaps it was just lingering anxiety, or maybe it was restlessness unwilling to leave. In the silence, I exhaled slowly before turning toward Dante, still seated beside me.

"Dante, can you come with me to the restroom?" I asked softly, my voice nearly a whisper in the eerie quiet.

Dante, who had seemed sluggish moments ago, immediately straightened up, stretching a little before looking at me with his usual laid-back expression. "Sure," he answered simply, without hesitation.

We walked toward the exit of the hall, our footsteps light against the cold floor. But before we could step outside, a figure near the door suddenly stood up.

Mr. Johan, his face weary yet alert, approached us.

"Where are you two going?" he asked in a low but firm voice, one that was difficult to ignore.

I swallowed before answering, "We're just going to the restroom, sir."

Mr. Johan's eyes studied our faces as if trying to read deeper into our intentions. There was something in his gaze, not just ordinary concern but a feeling he could not quite put into words.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "I will accompany you."

I was taken aback by his decision. Instinctively, I waved my hand dismissively, rejecting the idea quickly. "No need, sir. I have Dante with me, after all."

But Mr. Johan remained firm. His eyes narrowed slightly, filled with doubt he could not conceal. "No. I will go with you. Just the two of you will not be enough to guarantee your safety."

I sighed, reluctant about his insistence. "No, really, Mr. Johan. Besides, the police are still searching for the culprit around the school. We should be safe."

Mr. Johan stared at me for a long moment before finally letting out a heavy sigh, like a man tired of arguing with fate yet determined to fulfill his role.

"I am coming with you. I do not know why, but my gut tells me I should," he said quietly, but his voice held an unwavering firmness that could not be argued against.

Before I could protest again, Dante placed a hand on my arm, stopping me with a look full of understanding.

"Let it go, Noir. It is his decision. We should respect it."

I looked at Dante for a moment, letting his words sink in. Slowly, I exhaled and gave a small nod. My heart softened, finally accepting the decision.

Mr. Johan pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the padlock securing the hall doors. The sound of metal scraping echoed loudly in the silence. As the door creaked open, the cold night air slipped in, carrying the lingering scent of rain.

Outside, the school corridor looked darker than usual. The dim glow of distant lights barely illuminated the walls, casting long shadows that stretched eerily. The only sound was the soft echo of our footsteps, mingling with the faint dripping of rainwater from the roof.

Slowly, we stepped out of the hall, allowing the dense night to embrace us once more, its chill seeping into our skin, laced with an air of mystery.

Mr. Johan walked ahead, holding a small flashlight that cast a weak glow, barely piercing through the darkness of the hallway. Our shadows stretched along the damp walls, swaying slightly as he moved the light, scanning the dim surroundings.

I rubbed my neck, feeling a strange sense of unease. The silence was too quiet, as if the world beyond our steps had frozen in an empty void. Even the rain, which had been faintly audible moments ago, now seemed distant, swallowed by a darkness deeper than mere night.

I glanced at Dante and Mr. Johan beside me. Their faces, faintly illuminated by the flashlight, looked normal. Yet, for some reason, an inexplicable feeling settled in my chest, an unease I could not shake.

Something felt off.

I looked at Dante again, but this time, something about him felt different. His eyes were the same, his expression unchanged, but his smile… that smile quickened my pulse. There was something foreign in it, something that made my chest tighten for reasons I could not understand.

I swallowed hard and suddenly stopped in my tracks.

"Hey... I think I do not need to go anymore," I said, my voice slightly shaky. "How about we go back instead?"

Dante and Mr. Johan turned to me at the same time, confusion evident on their faces. Dante raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"What is wrong? We are almost at the restroom," he said. His tone was neutral, but somehow, that only made me more uneasy.

Mr. Johan chimed in, his voice as firm as ever, though laced with exhaustion. "That is right, Noir. It is just a few more steps."

I hesitated, my eyes flicking toward the dark corridor ahead. The heaviness in my chest remained, like an invisible presence lingering in the air, watching us from unseen corners of the night.

But in the end, I nodded, though reluctantly.

I continued walking, my feet feeling heavier than before, as if invisible strings were pulling me back toward the hall. But I kept going, holding my breath until I finally reached the restroom.

I turned back once more toward Dante and Mr. Johan, who stood behind me. There was something in their gaze that made my chest tighten even more, but I tried to ignore it.

"Dante... Mr. Johan... Wait for me, okay?" I whispered, my voice wrapped in the biting cold air.

They only nodded without saying anything. No smiles, no typical Dante jokes, just a simple nod that felt too empty.

I stepped into the restroom, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. Inside this cramped space, I felt slightly relieved. At least here, I was alone. At least here, I did not have to face something that made my emotions spiral further.

I did what I had to do, releasing all the tension building up inside me. When everything was done, I let out a deep breath and stepped out of the restroom.

But something was off.

Dante and Mr. Johan were gone.

I blinked several times, my mind struggling to process the situation. My eyes scanned the now eerily long and dark hallway, but there was no sign of them.

I swallowed hard, my heartbeat picking up its pace.

"Come on, Dante, Mr. Johan, this is not funny," I called out, trying to sound firm.

Only silence answered me.

No footsteps, no shadows at the end of the hall—just an overwhelming emptiness, as if it were swallowing me whole.

My hands trembled slightly, but I forced myself to shake off the bad thoughts. Maybe they went back to the hall, maybe there was a reason, maybe they thought I would be fine on my own.

Yeah, hopefully... Hopefully.

I walked back toward the hall, though every step felt unbearably heavy, as if invisible chains were binding my feet, dragging me deeper into a pit of fear. The night air bit at my skin, but what was more suffocating was the growing unease gnawing at my thoughts.

Dante and Mr. Johan.

Where were they?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but it felt like inhaling air filled with needles. Every breath hurt, every exhale felt hollow. I clutched my chest, hoping this was just my anxiety getting the best of me—hoping that when I reached the hall, they would be there, waiting for me with confused expressions, maybe even cracking a joke to lighten the mood.

But that hope shattered the moment I reached the hall.

Students were gathered outside, some clustered together with panicked faces, others peering through the windows with eyes filled with fear. Teachers rushed back and forth, their hurried steps betraying a panic they could no longer conceal.

My heart pounded. What was happening?

Without thinking, I ran into the hall. My footsteps echoed louder than before. Inside, Petra and the other art club members stood with tense expressions. I rushed to Petra, my voice barely holding back the panic threatening to consume me.

"What happened?" I asked, my tone almost trembling.

Petra exhaled repeatedly, clearly struggling to stay composed. But the way her eyes widened and the sweat trickling down her temple told me she was just as anxious as I was. It took a moment before she finally spoke, and when the words left her lips, my world stopped spinning.

"They said... the police searching for the suspect... were all killed. Not a single one left."

I froze.

My heart felt like it had stopped beating, my body suddenly drained of all strength, as if an invisible hand had crushed my balance. The words echoed in my head, but my mind refused to process them.

My hands clenched into fists, trembling under the fear slowly consuming me. I wanted to deny it, to believe this was just an exaggerated rumor, but seeing the terror in Petra's eyes, I knew it was real.

Then... what about Dante? What about Mr. Johan?

Just as that thought formed in my mind, someone approached hesitantly. It was Alexander.

His face was paler than usual, his gaze empty yet filled with fear. He was always the calm one, the one who rarely showed emotions, but now he looked shattered.

His faint voice broke the silence.

"Noir... where is Dante?"

That question struck me like lightning, jolting every part of my consciousness with a realization I had just come to understand.

I quickly glanced around the hall, hoping to spot him in the crowd, hoping I had just overlooked him in my panic.

But he was not there.

Dante was not here.

I turned back to Alexander, whose face had somehow grown even paler, as if all the blood had drained from his body.

"I... I thought he was with you guys..." I whispered, my voice caught in my throat as if weighed down by an unbearable burden.

Alexander stiffened, his breath hitching. The panic in his eyes twisted into an explosion of rage.

Without warning, he grabbed my collar tightly, his eyes burning with raw emotion.

"Stop joking around! He was with you!"

His shout shook me to my core, stabbing deeper into my chest than anything else.

I lowered my head, knowing that any words I spoke now would only make things worse. But I had to answer. I had to tell the truth.

"I know..." I murmured, my voice barely audible over the panic spreading through the room. "But when I came out of the restroom... he was gone... I thought he went back first..."

The moment those words left my lips, Alexander's expression changed completely.

The anger in his eyes faded, leaving behind nothing but pure, overwhelming fear. His hands shot up to his head, gripping his hair as if trying to pull out something unseen.

"No... no... no... no..."

His voice trembled in the air, cracking like glass before shattering completely.

Dante... where was he? Where did he go? Or more precisely... what had happened to him?