Farewell was supposed to feel sad and sweet at the same time. That was what everyone said.
Four years of classes and long nights of study were meant to end with a small ache.
For him, the word farewell felt empty inside the dull hall. It was as plain as the cheap drink they served.
His name was Dante. In college, he was always around people but never really with them. He watched their lives go on while his just stayed still.
If he went missing, nobody would really notice.
"I am done acting like I care," he said to the mirror. The face looking back had dark circles and a tired mouth that would not smile. He straightened the sash on his blazer and looked away.
"One last performance," he told himself quietly. "Then I can finally leave."
Outside, the party was pushing toward its fake climax. Crimson and gold banners hung down from the rails. A huge poster flashed "Batch of 2025. Soar High!" with desperate cheer. Dante stared at it. He wondered how many of them would still be smiling when real life began.
"And now, our last show for the night, Goodbye, School!" The man's voice came from the speakers. It was loud and pushed. He sounded like he tried too hard to make it good.
People hit their hands and made sounds. Pairs held hands while friends took one more set of pictures. Their faces had light from the weak glow of their phones. Dante kept his phone in his pants. He had no one to stand with and nothing to keep in mind.
When the lights got low for the slow dance, the floor got full with moves and colors.
Gowns brushed against tuxedos. Laughter and music rose together. They faded before they reached the steps where Dante sat. He counted the ceiling bulbs one by one.
"Let it end," he thought. "Please, just end already."
His wish came true, but not the way he thought it would.
The first flash was so bright it made him flinch. The next one tore through the roof. A thick bolt of blue and white lightning crashed down and hit the disco ball. It vanished in a cloud of silver dust.
Then came the sound. It was not just noise. It was a blast so strong it pushed the air out of his chest.
The floor shook. His ears rang. His whole body hurt. For a moment, he thought the building was falling apart around him.
So this is it, he thought. Dying on graduation night. Figures.
But he did not die.
When he opened his eyes again, the roof was gone. Above him was a wide sky filled with strange bright stars. He lay on damp moss. The air was cold and sharp against his face.
Around him, people were coughing and calling out. His classmates. Their faces glowed under two moons he had never seen before.
One was white and smooth. The other was cracked and glowing green from the inside.
Hundreds of students, pulled from a party and dropped into a forest that felt old and alive.
"Where are we?" someone yelled. "Was that an attack?"
"Check for injuries! Ariel's bleeding!"
Voices overlapped in panic. A girl started crying. Someone kept swearing again and again. Then, suddenly, everyone went quiet.
Tiny silver lights floated through the air. They came together in front of the group and slowly shaped into a woman.
She hovered above the ground. Her body glowed faintly. Her hair shone like sunlight. Her eyes looked ancient.
"Welcome, heroes," she said. Her voice was calm and deep. It echoed inside their bones. "I am Liora, the Goddess of Light. I am sorry for calling you here without warning."
The group froze.
"Send us home!" the sports team leader shouted. His voice broke. "We have people at home!"
Liora moved her head a little. Her light got less with sad feeling. "If I could, I would. But this is an old deal from before your world. Every fifty years, strong ones are picked. This time, it was you."
"What lets you pull us here!" a thin boy said loud. His hands shook.
Her face did not change, but her voice got more heavy. "The pick was not from me. But I will give you what I can. Power, a goal, and a way to be more than you are."
"All hundred of us?" asked Eric, the best in class. He tried to keep his voice with no shake.
Liora waited a bit. "I cannot say yes to that."
Fear went through the people.
"Tell us," said Maya, the leader of the talk group. Her words were strong.
"To be heroes, you must live through the Trial of Verdant," Liora said. "Only the ones who make it will get to go in the lands of Zerawell. I cannot say how many of you will be alive when the last door opens."
Her words hurt more than the lightning. The people made loud sounds. They said things loud, asked hard, and fought with words.
Some cried. Some froze.
"There are monsters here," she said. "Plan, train, and survive. That is your only path forward."
For a few seconds, no one moved. The air felt too heavy to breathe.
Dante licked his lips. He could taste something metallic, sharp. Not fear. Excitement. The dull fog that had followed him for years began to lift.
The act was over. The real story was beginning.
"Step forward one by one," Liora said. "I will grant your skill and answer one question each. Then, I must leave you to your fate."
A glowing doorway appeared behind her.
The students hesitated but began to form a line. Fear and confusion flickered in their eyes. They wanted answers, but none were sure what to ask.
Dante stood still. He watched and listened.
"Knowledge is power," he thought.
And waited for his turn.