A cool night breeze brushed the back of his neck.
In the darkness of the academy, within the heart of the abandoned dormitory of Igris, a red circle etched itself into the void.
A flash — silent, blinding — and then… a man reappeared.
His boots, caked in the dust of the lower city, struck the polished floor with a dull thud.
Dante.
The familiar sound of the door clicking shut behind him drew a sigh from his lips.
He took a few steps — then stopped cold.
The room… wasn't the same.
No more cameras hidden in corners.
No more microphones buried in the baseboards.
The bed was made. The walls, scrubbed clean.
Even the stench of confinement had vanished.
— "No longer a cell, huh..." He muttered.
But it wasn't the silence that unsettled him.
It was something else.
That strange, nagging sensation — too familiar for comfort…
— "Finally back, Jin."
The voice came from the bed. Or rather… from himself, in a way.
