Men and women in pristine white lab coats moved methodically through the sterile, fluorescent-lit lab.
The room was filled with typical laboratory equipment: microscopes, vials of chemicals, and computers humming with data analysis.
The soft beeping of machines echoed faintly.
At one of the large windows, the view was nothing but an endless expanse of snow, a white desert stretching as far as the eye could see.
Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, which, despite being a crisp blue, gave no warmth to the scene.
It was 4 a.m., but the brightness outside made it feel like the day had refused to end.
Among the scientists stood three men dressed in black military uniforms.
One of them, with jet-black hair and eyes to match, stood out as the target of muffled snickers.
The others—both soldiers and scientists—tried their best to suppress their laughter, their smiles betraying their efforts.
The man at the center of their amusement stood unmoved, staring back with a blank expression.
“G-Grand Executor Dante… y-you really need to stop spending all your time in the Azusa Mountains. Even for you, it’s too dangerous alone.”
One of the men stifled a laugh as he tried to speak, but none of them took Dante seriously.
Why would they?
The man hardly ever appeared, and when he did, he always rambled about waiting for “His Excellency’s” orders in those forsaken mountains.
They couldn’t understand him at all.
Even though he was stronger than all of them, Dante never acted against them.
Usually.
“Yes, Brian’s right. That so-called god of yours is just—!”
The room fell silent, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over them.
They all froze, biting their tongues.
Dante’s eyes had narrowed, and the weight in the air shifted, growing heavy and oppressive.
Their smiles faded.
“I’ve warned you not to speak of His Excellency, haven’t I, Bran?”
Dante’s voice was cold, sharp.
“One more word about His Excellency, and I’ll rip out the tongues of every man here and present them as an offering.”
The men swallowed hard, nodding furiously, all except for Void Commander Brian and Bran—the twins, identical with brown hair and hazel eyes, standing apart from the rest.
“Sir Dante,” Brian said, his voice strained.
“How long is this going to go on? What you’re doing is treason. You serve that ‘Excellency’ of yours instead of His Great Supreme Archon. You destroyed every military base in France and slaughtered soldiers without authorization. Whose side are you really on?”
It felt as if a blade hovered over Brian’s throat when Dante turned his gaze toward him, a sudden smirk curling at his lips.
The twins exchanged confused glances while the others looked increasingly uneasy.
“You’re mistaken, Brian,” Dante said slowly.
“Neo Genesis has always served His Excellency. My trip to France… was not in vain.”
Their confusion deepened, but Dante continued.
“Prince Azriel Crimson was there.”
“…!”
Shock rippled through the room.
All eyes locked onto Dante.
“What? The Prince of the Crimson Clan was in France? Why?”
“He had just returned from the Void Realm,” Dante replied. “I believe His Excellency sent me to retrieve the Prince, but by the time I arrived, he was already gone. I only discovered it was him after interrogating soldiers at one of the bases.”
“What does that prince have to do with any of this?” Bran snapped.
“We want him dead, remember? He’s a threat to the future, and we need to get rid of him.”
Dante’s smirk widened—an unsettling expression none of them had ever seen on his face.
A chill ran through the room as they watched him tap on his storage ring.
A small object appeared in his hand.
“What is that…?”
“A recording device.”
Dante pressed the button.
“Not much, just two things actually.”
The sudden voice of a man cut through the room. Everyone fell silent, listening intently.
“First, make sure that no matter what happens outside the void dungeon, those already inside aren’t forced to cancel and return to the surface. I’ll personally handle any problems within.”
Their expressions hardened as the words sank in.
“Very well. I expected as much.”
“!!”
Their eyes widened at the sound of the female voice in the recording.
“That voice…”
“It can’t be…!”
“And the second?”
“My ranking after the entrance exam… I want it hidden until the end of the trip or, if possible, lowered.”
“….”
“Confusion, huh… The rumors created today will seem false if you rank lower, making you a lower priority and underestimated. They’ll focus more on the higher-ranking students without realizing a grade 3 intermediate is hiding among them until it’s too late… ha!”
Dante tapped the button, ending the recording.
Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the steady beeping of computers.
Three voices had echoed through the device—two male, one female. Everyone recognized two of them.
“Saint Solomon and Headmistress Freya… but the other voice…”
“….”
“Prince Azriel Crimson…”
Dante tucked the recording device back into his storage ring, his gaze sweeping over the room with satisfaction.
“This… this doesn’t make sense. What are you saying, Dante?!”
Bran’s confusion turned to anger as he glared.
Dante’s smile grew disturbingly wide, twisting into something dark.
Their bodies tensed, cold fear crawling up their spines.
His expression was horrifying.
“The attack on the void dungeon was leaked.”
“What?!”
“You… you betrayed us?!”
Dante shook his head slowly, the eerie smile still plastered on his face.
A soft, unsettling laugh escaped his lips.
“Of course not. His Excellency simply sees more clearly than the rest of us… Azriel Crimson works for His Excellency… and us.”
The twins blinked in disbelief, their confusion deepening.
“What did you just say…?”
Dante spread his arms wide, his voice almost reverent.
“Ah, isn’t it beautiful? His Excellency has fooled everyone so easily! Twisting their minds, playing with their perceptions until it’s too late. It’s magnificent, isn’t it!?”
The scientists and the twins stared at him in growing horror.
Tears streamed down Dante’s face as he looked up, arms outstretched, lost in a rapturous trance.
“To be part of such grandeur! My life has never felt so complete! And once His Excellency rewards me… ah, I can’t wait!”
Brian clutched his head, staggering over to a chair, massaging his forehead in disbelief.
“This… this is too much.”
Bran, on the other hand, stormed toward Dante, his face twisted with rage. He grabbed Dante by the shoulders, pulling him close, their faces inches apart.
“Grand Executor Dante, have you lost your damn mind?! What’s in that recording doesn’t match reality at all! Azriel Crimson isn’t hiding his rank—he’s the fucking apex!”
“And even if, by some miracle, he is on our side, we need to cancel the plan.”
If Azriel Crimson was their enemy, he had to be eliminated.
But…
If he was truly an ally…
The possibility of having a prince on their side could change everything.
Yet Dante only smiled, unbothered by the gravity of the situation.
“Exactly… He fooled me. Us. Them. No one is worthy of knowing His Excellency’s true plan… except for the prince.”
“You’re insane… you’ve lost your mind.”
Brian stumbled back, releasing his grip on Dante. His face twisted in revulsion as he staggered away.
The man had completely lost it. There was no reasoning with him anymore.
“What is going on here?”
“”…!””
Thud–!
It all happened in an instant.
The moment that voice spoke from behind Brian, every person in the room collapsed to their knees, heads bowed low.
Even Dante.
The air grew suffocating, crushing their lungs under its weight.
Hearts pounded in terror, each beat like a drum against their ribs, growing louder and more erratic.
Fear.
Pure, unrelenting fear.
That’s all they felt.
Dante’s lips trembled, his eyes glued to the floor.
His voice was barely a whisper, breath caught in his throat.
“H-Hep… Hepta… rch…”
The blood drained from their faces as they felt a presence—its gaze boring into them, freezing them in place.
“…Heptarch Zoran.”
“I return after a year in the Void Realm, cleaning up the Fallen Sky, and the first thing I see is a bunch of clowns fighting each other. Was it a mistake to anchor myself here?”
“N-no… m-my lord, please forgive us. It’s just… a situation has occurred.”
Brian’s voice shook, his entire body trembling. He didn’t dare look up.
None of them did.
The scientists lay sprawled across the ground… unconscious.
“Oh? And what situation would that be?”
“T-the plan to attack the Void Dungeon… it was l-leaked. I-I’m sorry. We know how difficult it was to operate in Asia with the F-four Great Kings there. Please, allow us to fix this!”
Bran slammed his forehead into the ground, Brian quickly following suit.
But Dante didn’t move.
“…How was the plan leaked?”
Zoran’s voice dropped, darker, more dangerous.
The trembling worsened.
The three of them shook so violently that sweat poured from their skin, dripping onto the floor.
“P-p-prince Azriel… leaked it to S-saint Solomon and Headmistress F-freya…”
Bran stammered, barely able to speak.
The moment the words left his mouth, the room fell into an eerie silence.
Even the gentle beeping of the computers had stopped.
Their hearts clenched painfully.
A single thought gripped their minds:
‘Am I already dead?’
They didn’t move. No one dared.
The silence stretched endlessly, time slowing to a crawl.
It felt like an eternity before they were finally released from the invisible noose tightening around their necks.
“…Who?”