The Triangle didn't feel like a school anymore.
Not after you learned how the world ended.
Not after you learned there was an ending.
It felt like a machine—cold, efficient, and hungry—meant to grind people into "results."
And today, the machine was smiling.
Because today was the monthly dungeon exam.
The day the Triangle pretended it was measuring progress.
The day it secretly measured which students were worth keeping.
I stood in the staging hall with Class A1, brass knuckles tucked into my belt, uniform collar stiff against my throat.
Above us, massive screens flickered with the dungeon's name:
[Gate: Hollow Orchard — Rank: C+]
A low-grade gate.
Supposedly safe.
Supposedly controlled.
Supposedly nothing like the one that would ruin everything later.
I didn't trust the word "supposedly" anymore.
Not after Maya.
Not after Wendy's memories.
Not after realizing the plot didn't care if you begged.
It only cared if you survived.
"Dreyden."
I turned.
