As the performances from the fresh new trainees rolled on, one thing became crystal clear—
No one was safe.
This wasn't about seniority anymore. It wasn't about who had history or who had already built a name. This was anyone's game now.
And the new trainees?
They did not come to play.
They went toe-to-toe with the remaining OG trainees and proved, without a doubt, that they belonged right there with them.
Louie came back first—and damn, did he come back with a vengeance.
After leaving the program to recover and get himself back on his feet, he didn't slack. Not even for a second. He trained relentlessly, pushing himself harder than ever, and it showed.
Every word he had spoken during that livestream?
He meant every single one.
Louie hit the stage like he had something to prove—singing, rapping, dancing with everything he had. No hesitation. No fear. Just raw drive.
And it paid off.
He didn't just return to the program—he reclaimed his spot.
Then there was Mikko.
With Nikola acting as his loudest, proudest, most unhinged hype man, Mikko stood tall in front of the world and performed like he had nothing to lose.
And honestly?
He didn't.
The athleticism he displayed while b-boying was nothing short of world-class. Some might even dare to say he was better than Nikola himself.
Would Nikola argue?
Hell to the nah.
If anything, he'd encourage that narrative.
Mikko was a world-renowned b-boy—someone who had battled the best breakers the world had to offer and walked away victorious. His tricks were dangerous. Borderline suicidal. Straight-up death-defying.
Tuesday screamed through the entire performance, one hand clamped onto Foca's arm so tightly it actually left a mark.
But Mikko wasn't done yet.
As if the breaking wasn't already insane enough, he shocked everyone by opening his mouth and delivering a classical opera piece—clean, powerful, and breathtaking.
It was the embodiment of two extremes.
Unhinged, explosive physicality.
And pristine, disciplined vocal control.
The contrast was unreal.
Impressive as hell—but Foca, ever the realist, reminded him that mastery lies in balance.
Mikko now had to learn how to adapt his classically trained voice to modern, mainstream genres—especially pop. And while his freestyle breaking was undeniably top-tier, he would also need to become just as strong in structured choreography.
Potential?
Off the charts.
Overall, the fresh new trainees made one thing abundantly clear—
They were there for a reason.
And they earned every second of their place in the second half of the program.
It's definitely game on.
****
As the first evaluations of the new trainees drew to a close, Foca, Luca, and Tuesday rose from their seats and made their way to the stage.
Standing before everyone, Foca nodded—and that was the cue.
"To everyone who joined us here tonight, and to those tuning in from homes all around the world," Tuesday began, her smile radiant, "thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for witnessing these new trainees as they showcased their incredible talents."
"We ask that you continue to show them your love and support," she added warmly, "because LEAVEN is far from over."
Luca stepped forward next, his signature grin firmly in place.
"To our live audience—having you all here has been an absolute joy," he said. "We can't thank you enough for taking time out of your busy lives to celebrate these amazing talents with us."
He placed a hand over his chest.
"We can breathe easy knowing that people like you have our artists, our trainees, and our company's backs. Your unwavering support is one of the biggest reasons we're standing here today. Truly—thank you."
Then Foca spoke.
"And to the families, friends, and loved ones who are here with us tonight—and those watching from the comfort of their homes—I want to express my deepest gratitude."
He looked toward the trainees.
"It is your belief in them, your encouragement, and your support of their dreams that brought them to where they are today. Watching them grow—watching them bloom—has been an absolute joy."
Finally, Foca turned fully toward the artists and trainees, his expression proud, affectionate—every bit the mentor who believed in them.
"To all of you," he said gently, "it has been an honor to witness your growth. Thank you for placing your trust in us—and by extension, Bread Music."
"That trust?" he added, smiling. "I promise to treasure it and protect it to the best of my ability."
He tilted his head. "And you all know I keep my word… right?"
"YEAH!"
The artists and trainees answered in unison, cheers echoing through the theater.
"Thank you," Foca said softly.
Then—his tone shifted.
"Now, as the second half of LEAVEN officially begins, we'd like to inform everyone that Luca, Tuesday, and I will be taking our leave from the program for the time being."
Confused murmurs rippled through the audience.
"The three of us have prior commitments we must attend to," Foca explained calmly. "In our absence, evaluations will be handled by our existing lineup of elite and expert coaches—the same ones who have been training you all this time."
He nodded with certainty.
"We trust them completely. And so, we're passing the torch."
"Don't worry though," Luca added casually, like hopping countries was no more inconvenient than grabbing coffee. "We'll be dropping by from time to time."
"And of course," Tuesday chimed in, "we'll be right here for the final evaluations."
"So," Foca concluded, "thank you for all your continued support."
"This has been—"
"Focaccia."
"Luca Giovanni."
"And ya gurl, Tuesday Summers—*tongue pop*."
"Signing off."
All three bowed as thunderous cheers erupted across the venue.
"And with that," Cat announced brightly, "thank you all for watching! LEAVEN will return to its original broadcast schedule. Good night, everyone!"
The night ended in celebration.
Confetti rained down.
Stage lights danced.
And the future?
Looking bright as the sun.