The night over Alph's Academy was still. The moon drifted behind slow-moving clouds, casting silver light through the tall windows of the dormitory. Silence cloaked the entire 20th floor, save for the soft rhythm of breathing from those who had already surrendered to sleep.
Inside the Room, six figures rested — Dante sitting quietly at the edge of his bed, Rio, Lee and the others already lost in deep slumber. The echoes of what had happened that day — the hidden trial, the secret tests, and Richard's unreadable eyes — all swirled faintly in Dante's half-conscious mind. He remembered the ground trembling, the air thick with energy, and then… darkness.
His memories after that were fractured — whispers of voices, a flash of light, waking up to Richard's piercing stare and the sudden appearance of a holographic screen in front of his eyes. Now, beneath the still moonlight, his eyes slowly grew heavy. "I'll think about it tomorrow," he murmured, lying back against the soft mattress. Within moments, exhaustion claimed him.
---
The first light of dawn slipped through the curtains. The Academy's morning bells hadn't yet rung, and everything remained quiet — too quiet. Then, amid that quiet, a voice — soft and distant at first — brushed against Dante's mind.
> "Ah… you're finally awake."
Dante's eyes snapped open instantly. His chest rose sharply as he sat upright, glancing around the room. Lee was still snoring softly, Rio had turned on his side, and the others still sleeping peacefully. No one else was awake. Yet the voice — feminine, calm, and strangely melodic — lingered in his head, almost echoing from everywhere and nowhere at once.
He swallowed. "Who… who's there?"
No answer. The air around him shimmered faintly. Then again — that voice, this time clearer, layered with something ancient, something far beyond human tone.
> "You can hear me, can't you… my host?"
"Host?" Dante whispered, his voice trembling. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"
The voice chuckled softly, its tone both teasing and timeless — like wind brushing over glass.
> "Questions already… how typical of mortals. You'll find your answers soon enough. But first — say the words. System Menu."
Dante blinked, confusion furrowing his brow. "System… what?"
> "Say it."
Something about her tone — not commanding, but confident — made him obey without even realizing it. He took a slow breath. "System menu."
The moment the words left his lips, a faint chime resonated in the air, and then — light.
A holographic screen materialized before him, floating in the air with a sleek, modern design. Its borders glowed in faint azure light, the digital lines rippling like living energy. He flinched slightly, but curiosity pushed him closer.
The display read:
---
[SYSTEM INTERFACE ONLINE]
Welcome, Host.
> [HOST STATS AND INFORMATION]
[ABILITIES]
[SHOP]
[DAILY TASKS]
[QUESTS]
[PENDING QUESTS]
[INVENTORY]
---
Dante's heartbeat quickened as he stared, eyes wide. "What… is this?"
> "Your awakening and this is a system," the voice said softly. "The moment you were chosen, this system slept within your soul, waiting for the seal to fracture. The events yesterday… stirred it from slumber."
He remembered the flash — the surge of power that had consumed him during the trial. The way the world had bent around him, and how Richard and Mark had watched him afterward. His breath caught.
"Wait, you mean—"
> "Hold on," she interrupted gently, "that what you call 'power' was entirely your own. I am… what remains of something ancient, bound to you now, and my presence made your powers stronger and more destructive. We share one vessel, one destiny."
Her tone carried both calm certainty and the weight of something vast. Yet beneath it, there was a teasing amusement, as if she found his confusion entertaining.
Dante rubbed his temple. "This can't be real. I'm… dreaming, right?"
> "If this is a dream," she whispered, "then you're the only one who's still asleep."
The words sent a chill down his spine. The light from the holographic screen flickered slightly, reflecting in his eyes. He reached out cautiously — and his hand passed through the glowing symbols like mist.
> "You can't touch it," she said. "Only command it. Go on. Explore."
Dante hesitated, then looked back at the list. The curiosity that replaced his fear was undeniable now. He focused on the second option. "Open Abilities."
The screen shimmered, lines reconfiguring rapidly until new text filled the space.
---
[ABILITIES MENU]
> Primary Energy Affinity: Undefined
Status: Locked
Sub-Ability Slot 1: Locked
Sub-Ability Slot 2: Locked
Sub-Ability Slot 3: Locked
Unique Trait: Sealed
System Integration: 12%
---
"What the hell?" Dante muttered, eyes narrowing. "Everything's… locked?"
The voice chuckled again — soft, amused, yet faintly sad.
> "Yes. Until you're ready."
"Ready for what?" he snapped.
> "For me. For it. For what you are."
Her tone turned distant, echoing like it came from a deep well of memory. Dante's frustration began to rise — the more he asked, the less she seemed to reveal.
"Why do you keep speaking in riddles?" he asked, exasperated.
> "Because riddles are truths wrapped in protection," she said lightly. "Some knowledge, if spoken too soon, breaks more than it builds."
He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The glow of the interface illuminated his tense features — half lit by blue light, half shadowed by dawn creeping through the curtains.
> "Don't be afraid, Dante," she said softly, almost tenderly now. "In time, you'll understand why you were chosen. For now… learn, grow, survive."
The faint hum of energy pulsed through the room — subtle enough that Rio and Lee didn't stir. Dante leaned back slightly, staring at the floating screen, and whispered, "You said… chosen. Chosen by who?"
> "By the echoes of something older than your Academy… older than the world that built it," she murmured. "But enough questions. You should rest. The day will soon begin."
Her tone shifted, a trace of playfulness returning.
> "Unless, of course, you'd rather I sang you back to sleep."
Dante blinked in disbelief. "Sang? Wait— you can—"
> "Hush," she teased, her voice fading with the hum of the interface. "You'll learn my name when you earn it."
The screen dimmed slightly, leaving behind only the faint blue glow of the main menu. Dante stared at it for several seconds, heart still pounding.
Was this connected to the power he used during the trial? Was this what Richard and Mark had seen in him?
He wanted to tell someone — but who would believe him? He turned toward his roommates; Rio was mumbling something incoherent in his sleep, and Lee had kicked his blanket off. Ordinary, peaceful, unaware.
Dante exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking as the weight of uncertainty pressed on him.
He whispered softly, "System menu… close."
The holographic display faded into sparks of light, dissolving into the morning air.
For a few seconds, silence returned — heavy and surreal. Then, just as he thought the voice had gone, a faint whisper brushed against his mind again — softer this time, like a breeze through old pages.
> "Welcome to your new reality… my host."