The brisk afternoon air hit her skin, but it did little to cool the storm in her chest.

Mr. 00’s words looped in her mind like a curse: “If he cannot speak up for himself, then perhaps that is his burden.”

Her arms wrapped around herself. “Burden? That’s all he saw?”

Her parents’ voices piled on: “Control yourself if you want to lead. Don’t let emotions ruin you.” 

Her throat tightened. 

“Maybe I really can’t do this,” she muttered, staring out at the bioluminescent skyline. “Maybe he was right.”

The memory of her outburst flashed — the venom in her voice, the truck. She winced.

“What was I even thinking? That wasn’t just harsh. That was reckless. If this gets back to my parents…”

Her chest constricted, the storm inside clawing for release.

“Why can’t I just hold it together? Why can’t I be like Mirai, composed? Instead, I look like a child throwing a tantrum.”

Her chest tightened. “But… he deserved it, didn’t he? Her eyes closed for a brief moment.” Or… was it not my place?”

Tears finally slipped free, catching the neon light as they fell.

“Hey,” someone said, stepping towards her, his hands in his pockets. You're not wrong, you know.”

She stiffened, quickly wiping her face as Mirai stepped up beside her, his expression calm but his eyes betraying genuine concern.

She didn’t turn to face him, the sting of her emotions still heavy in her chest.

Her steps faltered for a brief moment, the words sinking in, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She felt exposed, vulnerable after everything she had just said.

“How did you—”

“You’re not exactly subtle when you’re upset,” he said, leaning casually against the railing. Hands in his pocket, pretending not to notice her tears.

She let out a shaky laugh, but it quickly turned into a sigh. “You shouldn’t have followed me. I’m fine.”

Yeah,” he said, glancing at her sidelong. “Because sprinting out of the building crying definitely screams ‘fine.’”

Her lips trembled, but she forced a laugh. “Go away, Mirai.”

He hesitated just for a second, his usual smirk faltering. “Look, I’m… not great at this kind of thing. But I do know this—” His tone steadied, firm now.

“You’re not a disappointment. Not to me, not to Sephoric, not to anyone who actually knows you. You stood up for someone when no one else did. That’s… rare. That matters. And honestly, kind of badass.”

Her lips trembled as more tears welled up. “It didn’t fix anything, though. That boy is still miserable, and Mr. 00 just brushed it off like it was nothing.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But it’s not about fixing everything. Sometimes it’s just about doing the right thing, even if it feels small.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the hum of the city filling the space between them.

“Why do you always know what to say?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Believe me, half the time I don’t. Lucky guess.”

She let out a small laugh, wiping her face again. “Thanks... I needed that.”

He leaned back slightly, his smirk softening into a reassuring grin. “No problem. Just don’t let Mr. 00 get in your head too much. He’s not the final boss, okay?”

Her smile widened a bit, the tension slightly eased in her shoulders.

 “Yeah… okay.”

As they turned to head back inside, she glanced at him, feeling a small weight lift from her chest.

Maybe she didn’t have all the answers yet, but at least she didn’t have to face it alone.

The bell rang, echoing through the halls as students began to pour in, their voices blending with the crisp afternoon air.

The hallways filled with a golden glow, patterns of sunlight rippling across the ground like slow-moving water, filtered through the innovative windows of Helios Interactive Academy.

A female student with jet-black hair and striking silver eyes strolled alongside a taller male student with sleek ash-brown hair.

Both wore the academy’s signature crisp uniforms, all-black with subtle custom embroidery, accented by a sharp silver trim.

As they stepped into the open plaza outside, the meticulous design of the Freya unfolded before them.

Bioluminescent lights began to flicker on as the setting sun cast long shadows across the sleek pathways.

Floating rays from nearby sky skyscrapers reflected off the glass buildings, while the ambient hum of drones maintaining the greenery created a tranquil backdrop.

”I swear to god, if Mr. 01 drones on about player immersion again, I’m throwing my tablet out the window,” Saiya muttered, booting a pebble across the plaza.

Issan adjusted his bag, deadpan. “Ah yes. Property damage. A time-honored cure for boredom.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. I don’t even need that class. I’m already making more than half these instructors combined.”

“Money now doesn’t mean stability later,” he said calmly.

She groaned. “Spare me the career lecture. Sponsors, streams, FNL—it’s not going anywhere. We’re Sephoric. We don’t fade.”

“Sure,” he allowed, his voice calm but pointed. “But have you ever thought about what you’ll want when all this isn’t enough?”

“What, like sitting in an office and filing reports? Yeah, no thanks.” she shrugged, her tone sharp but not entirely dismissive. “Why mess with it? FNL trailer just got announced anyway.

He raised an eyebrow. “Fair point. But Sponsors come and go. Even the biggest games fade eventually. And streaming? It’s not exactly a retirement plan.”

She let out a sigh, kicking another rock down the path. “You sound like my parents. ‘Oh, Saiya, what are you going to do with your future? You can’t play forever.’ They should be grateful.”

“And yet you’ve just admitted they might have a point,” he said with a smirk, earning a sharp side-eye from her.

She crossed her arms. “You make it sound like I’m gonna fall off the map tomorrow. I’m not just some random player.”

“I’m not trying to bring you down,” he replied. “That path is simple, sure.”

He paused, letting the thought linger before continuing.

“We’re young, Saiya. But rushing to dismiss every opportunity might leave you without one when you need it most. Just remember: indecision is also a choice—and often not the best one.”

“Whatever, Issan.” Her jaw tightened, but she forced a smirk. “What, be a bookworm like you? No thanks.”

“Not everyone needs to be a scholar,” he replied evenly. “But the world could use leaders who see beyond themselves. That includes you.”

“Sounds like a holo-ad,” she shot back, but her eyes flickered, just briefly.

He gave the faintest smile. “Then maybe it’s working.”

She snorted, kicking another rock. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But don’t expect a big speech if you’re right.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he said smoothly. “Luckily, I have more of it than you.”

She glared. “Careful, scholar.” her smirk easy.

The air was crisp, and the city’s neon lights and bioluminescence were beginning to awaken, casting a soft glow that blended with the warm hues of sunlight filtering through the skyline.

The gentle hum of activity in Freya provided a serene backdrop as Mirai sat alone on a sleek bench near a cascading fountain, his posture relaxed but his eyes distant, lost in thought.

“Sun salutations, Mirai,” Issan greeted as he approached.

“Yo,” he replied, giving a casual hand wave.

“Aww, look at him, lonely boy with his imaginary friend,” her voice cut through the quiet moment, her words sharp but carrying a playful edge.”

He smirked, leaning back lazily. “My imaginary friends offer more support than you do.”

She grinned, crossing her arms. “Yeah? Well, without me, you wouldn’t have made that parry, you’re welcome.”

A casual smile played on his lips, leaning forward with a casual shrug. “Hey, miracles do happen once in a while, right?”

Her eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth twitched upward but before she could fire back, Mirai’s tone shifted. “Takara got sent home.”

The words hit like glass shattering. Both Saiya and Issan froze.

“…What?” Issan asked, his glasses slipping down slightly.

Saiya’s brows furrowed. “Takara? No way. She’s the last person on earth who’d get in trouble.”

“Mr. 00,” Mirai said flatly. “Things got heated.”

Issan exchanged a grim look with Saiya. “That doesn’t sound like her…”

“Oh, that guy,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Mirai stood, brushing off his pants. “Ask her later. She’s fine. For now, we’ve got bigger problems.”

Saiya scanned the plaza, tensioN in her posture. “Wait. Where’s Zenobia?”