Farewell was supposed to be bittersweet. That's what everyone said. Four years of shared lectures and projects were meant to end with laughter and a hint of sadness.
For Dante, the word farewell felt hollow. In the dull auditorium, it carried no meaning, as flat as the cheap punch they served. He stood apart, watching everyone else act like the night meant something.
He had always been like that close enough to see others shine but never close enough to share their light. If he disappeared, the world would move on the same.
He looked at his reflection in the restroom mirror. "I'm done pretending I care," he said. The face staring back had tired eyes and a mouth that looked permanently unimpressed.
He fixed his sash, adjusted his collar, and sighed. "One last performance," he muttered. "Then I'm gone."
The party outside had reached its fake peak. Music echoed, and laughter sounded forced. Crimson and gold banners hung low, half-torn from the rails.
A poster read, Batch of 2025, Soar High! The words looked hopeful but tired.
Dante walked through the crowd, unseen. Everyone else was busy taking selfies, hugging, shouting promises to stay in touch.
Their faces glowed under their phone screens. His phone stayed in his pocket. He had nothing worth remembering tonight.
The announcer's voice burst through the speakers. "And now, our final act for the evening, Adieu, Alma Mater!" The tone was so cheerful it made Dante cringe.
The lights dimmed. Music changed to something slow and sentimental. Couples gathered on the dance floor. Dresses brushed against tuxedos, laughter blending with the melody.
Dante sat alone at the top of the stairs, staring at the lights. 'Let it end,' he thought. 'Just end already.'
Then the world listened.
A flash of light filled the hall. He blinked and shielded his eyes. A second flash followed, louder, brighter, violent. It tore the ceiling apart.
A bolt of lightning shot down through the center of the room. The disco ball exploded into dust. The air turned white.
The sound came a heartbeat later. It wasn't just loud it hit like a wall, crushing the air out of his lungs.
The floor shook.
Screams vanished under the roar.
'So this is how it ends,' he thought. 'Dying on graduation night.'
But he didn't die.
When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in the auditorium. Above him stretched an endless night sky. Stars shimmered like cold glass. The air was fresh and sharp, smelling of earth and rain.
He lay on wet moss. Around him, people were groaning and moving. Dozens of classmates his entire batch scattered across the place.
Two moons hung in the sky. One was pure white, the other cracked and green. Their glow washed over the forest in silver light.
"Where are we?" someone shouted.
"Was that a bomb?" another voice yelled.
A girl screamed, "Ariel's bleeding!"
Chaos spread fast. People shouted over each other, checking for friends, demanding answers. Some cried, others just stood frozen.
Then the forest went silent. The kind of silence that pressed on the ears.
In front of them, small silver lights started to gather. They swirled and merged, forming the outline of a woman.
She hovered just above the ground. Her hair glowed faintly, her skin shining like moonlight.
Her eyes held something vast and distant, like she'd seen too much to be surprised by anything.
"Welcome, heroes," she said. Her voice was soft but carried through the entire clearing. "I am Liora, Goddess of Light. Forgive me for summoning you so suddenly."
Everyone froze. Then the shouting started again.
The football captain stepped forward, red-faced. "Send us back! We didn't ask for this! We have families!"
Liora tilted her head slightly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "If I could, I would. But this summoning is bound by a pact older than your world. Every fifty years, champions are chosen. This time, it was you."
"What gives you the right?" a thin boy shouted, voice shaking.
"The choice was not mine," she said. "But I can give you strength, purpose, and a chance to become more than you are."
"All hundred of us?" asked Eric, the class valedictorian. He spoke as if this were another debate.
Liora's glow flickered. "I cannot promise that."
The words hit like a cold wave. Fear rippled through the group.
"Explain," demanded Maya, the debate club president.
Liora clasped her hands. "To live in this world, you must survive the Trial of Verdant. Only those who endure will earn the right to walk the lands of Zerawell. I do not know how many will reach the final gate."
Panic erupted again. People shouted, cursed, begged. Some dropped to their knees. Others tried to run but found no path beyond the glowing trees.
Dante stood still. His heartbeat slowed. The chaos around him sounded distant. What he felt wasn't fear.
It was excitement.
His lips parted slightly. The air tasted like copper. The numbness that had followed him for years cracked and faded.
'The performance is over,' he thought. 'This… this feels real.'
Liora's calm voice cut through the shouting. "There are monsters in these woods. Plan, train, and survive. That is your only path."
Her tone carried no warmth now. Only truth.
She raised her hand. "Approach one by one. I will grant each of you a skill and answer one question. Then I must leave you to your fate."
A doorway of light opened beside her. It pulsed softly, steady and bright.
The students hesitated, but eventually, a line began to form. Fear made them move.
Dante didn't join them. He watched. He listened. He studied the goddess, the light, the reactions.
'Knowledge is power,' he thought. 'And patterns are the key to knowledge.'
A faint smile tugged at his lips. The first real smile in years.
The night that began with fake goodbyes had turned into something else. Something real. Something dangerous.
The act was over. The game had begun.