The hallway's silence shattered under urgent footsteps.
Kiana hurried after Bai Qian, her soles scraping out a quick rhythm on the floor. Her twin tails bounced with every step.
She didn't look at the students peeking from doorways and windows. Her eyes were glued to the crooked hat ahead of her as if it were a compass needle.
"Over there."
Kiana pointed toward the classroom placard at the end of the corridor.
Bai Qian pressed down the wide-brimmed mage hat on his head. The hem of his purple skirt cut a clean arc as he walked.
Behind them, Tallulah moved on the left, silent, one palm never leaving the sword hilt at her waist. Her long boots struck the floor with a heavy thud, thud.
Rin Tohsaka kept pace on the right, smoothing her wind-tossed bangs while muttering under her breath—things like "This is insane," and "Even a magus can't be this blatant"—but her feet didn't slow for a second.
Melina trailed behind the group. Herta and Toyokawa Saki brought up the rear.
The whole lineup was absurd.
They looked like cosplayers who'd stepped out of a convention by mistake—
or a tokusatsu villain squad with no clear origin and worse social awareness.
Even in classrooms where lessons were ongoing, the students noticed. Whispers rose, then pulled back like a tide drawing away from a rock.
"Hey, what class are they from?"
"That woman in the back—she's carrying a sword. That's a real sword, isn't it? Why isn't the school stopping her?"
The gossip drilled into Kiana's ears.
She straightened her back anyway.
She'd never felt this righteous in her life.
The word weirdo used to sting. Now it rang like a medal.
So what if she was a weirdo?
Sometimes you had to be weird to drag an idiot out of a swamp.
She sped up two steps to walk beside Bai Qian.
"It's up ahead. Class A."
Her voice trembled. Not fear—something brighter.
Bai Qian stopped in front of a closed classroom door.
A sign hung over it: Class A.
Inside, the faint noise of teaching drifted out. Or perhaps a self-study period—murmurs and movement.
Bai Qian glanced sideways at Kiana.
"Ready?"
Kiana nodded hard.
"Then let Raiden Mei welcome the biggest turning point of her life."
No warning.
No knock.
No polite greeting.
The purple skirt flared.
A polished shoe lifted—and stamped into the wooden door with brutal finality.
BANG—!
The impact detonated in the corridor.
The lock wailed under the strain. The entire door slid inward.
Inside, the sound died instantly—
like someone had hit mute on a television.
Chalk dust spun near the doorframe, turning sunlight into a dirty beam.
Dozens of eyes snapped over.
The teacher on the podium held half a piece of chalk, mouth slightly open, glasses sliding down their nose.
The front-row students recoiled so hard they scraped their chairs backward with a screech.
Bai Qian stepped across the trembling threshold.
He didn't look at the teacher.
He didn't look at the students.
His gaze swept once—cold and precise—and locked onto the corner seat by the window.
A girl with long hair sat there.
Raiden Mei.
Her pen hovered in midair. Her violet eyes had narrowed slightly, still caught between shock and confusion.
Around her desk was an obvious vacuum zone.
The desks in front and behind were pulled subtly away—like she carried a contagion.
Her desktop was clean, almost obsessively so.
But the table leg bore smudged shoe prints—the kind that could only come from someone "accidentally" kicking it too many times.
Bai Qian lifted a hand and straightened his wide-brimmed hat.
Then he walked.
His shoes tapped crisp against the floor.
Behind him, Kiana, Tallulah, Rin, Melina, and Saki filed in.
Six people stood at the front of the room, directly ignoring the teacher still frozen by the chaos.
"Excuse me," Bai Qian said.
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried cleanly through the classroom.
"Which one of you is Raiden Mei?"
It was a question—but his eyes never moved from the corner.
As if on cue, the entire class's gaze swung toward Mei.
Those stares contained everything: surprise, curiosity, delight at the spectacle.
Mei sat there, suddenly feeling like a clown shoved beneath a spotlight.
Her fingers curled around the hem of her uniform. Her knuckles went white.
This kind of attention used to be familiar.
Back when her father was still the president of ME Corp, those eyes were filled with envy and flattery.
Now, ever since he'd been arrested—
the looks had turned into judgment and mockery.
She wanted to lower her head.
She wanted to hide inside the shadow of her textbooks.
But the "girl" standing at the front—
those violet eyes—
held her gaze with a strange gravity she couldn't break.
"I am…"
Mei's voice came out soft, trembling at the edges.
Before she could finish, Bai Qian was already walking toward her.
The crowd parted instinctively.
He reached her desk, planted both hands on it, and looked down at her.
"We know about Raiden Ryoma."
Mei's body stiffened.
In this school, that name was taboo.
It was the root of her pain.
Say it aloud and the labels followed: economic crime, criminal's daughter, fallen heiress.
A few students sucked in breath sharply.
Some girls who'd been watching like they were at a show traded looks—eyes flashing with excited anticipation.
See? Another person here to pick at her.
Mei clenched her teeth, jawline tight.
She braced herself.
For the insult she'd swallowed a thousand times.
Like she'd done for the past two months.
She shut her eyes and waited—
for criminal's daughter.
But the expected cruelty never came.
"Thank you for his sacrifice."
Mei's eyes snapped open.
"What…?"
For a moment she thought she'd misheard.
Bai Qian straightened, adjusted the collar of his purple robe, and turned to face the class—
but he was speaking to Mei.
"That man bore every罪名 alone, for something greater."
He raised a finger and traced a vague line through the air.
"To conceal the truth of the world—he wore a mask."
"And you, as his successor…"
Everything he said—
was true.
Bai Qian turned back to Mei and extended his right hand.
Palm up.
An invitation.
"Now, the organization needs you."
"Raiden Mei."
"Will you come with us… and save this world that's about to fall into Honkai?"
The classroom became a tomb.
Mouths hung open.
This wasn't how bullying was supposed to go.
Save the world? Organization?
Were these people insane?
Mei stared at the hand offered to her.
It was pale, slender, neatly trimmed nails.
Its owner was saying what only lunatics would say.
Save the world?
Organization?
Two days ago, she would've called it a cruel joke. A middle-school rebellion dragged into high school.
But—
she saw Kiana.
The white-haired girl who'd struck a ridiculous pose in the hallway yesterday, shouting about being the "Leader of the Heart Thieves," was standing behind Bai Qian now.
Kiana didn't speak.
She just nodded hard—again and again.
Those blue eyes held no mischief.
Only trust. Expectation. An almost overflowing sincerity.
And at the door stood a tall woman with a sword at her waist, expressionless, scanning the class like a warden.
The red-shirted twin-tail girl had her hand on her forehead like she was exhausted—but her position quietly blocked the back door.
Even the most "normal" one, the blue-haired girl, looked like she wanted to die—yet she still stood by the podium, forcing herself to be present.
Everything was absurd.
So absurd that it made you want to believe.
In a person's life, there are moments when it feels like the gates of heaven crack open.
Mei had waited fifteen years.
At her lowest moment—
the door opened.
Her heart began to hammer.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A fist against her ribs.
It was a feeling she hadn't had in so long.
Ever since her father's arrest, her world had been gray.
Each day had been the same: endure, ignore, retreat, rot quietly.
She thought she'd decay forever in Nagazora's shadow.
But now—
someone had barged in.
Kicked her door open.
And in front of every person who laughed at her, said:
You aren't a criminal's daughter.
You're someone chosen.
To be needed.
To be affirmed.
Even if it was a lie—crazy words, a fantasy acted out on a classroom stage—
it was warmer than the dead reality by ten thousand miles.
Mei's fingers trembled.
Slowly, she lifted her hand.
The stares sharpened.
Mockery turned into shock—into something like unease.
And she found herself enjoying it.
Yes.
Enjoying it.
She used to fear those eyes because they were a verdict.
Now, those eyes were stage lights.
If she took this hand—
she would no longer be a fallen heiress.
She would be…
a partner who saves the world.
"I…"
Her voice was dry.
She inhaled like she wanted to steal every last drop of oxygen in the room.
"I'll go."
"Good."
Bai Qian's mouth curved into a grin with a hint of wickedness.
He let go. His left hand slipped into the inner pocket of his robe and pulled out a silver object.
It looked like a handgun—Desert Eagle-like in silhouette, but slimmer, etched with ornate patterns.
A standard S.E.E.S Summoner.
"A gun!"
A girl in the front row shrieked and dove under her desk.
The classroom erupted.
Chairs scraped.
Books thudded.
Someone tried the back door—only to freeze when Rin glared at them, then shrink back like a scolded pet.
"Quiet."
Bai Qian ignored the chaos.
He raised the Summoner.
Not at anyone else.
But slowly—
he pressed its muzzle-shaped end against his own temple.
Mei's pupils blew wide.
"You—"
"Don't blink."
Bai Qian looked at her, violet eyes reflecting the silver metal.
His finger tightened on the trigger without hesitation.
"Persona—!"
A clean mechanical click.
No bullet.
Instead—
a shattering sound.
Like something invisible cracking open inside the air.
Blue flames burst from above his head.
And within that blaze, a massive figure emerged.
A top hat.
Black wings.
The tails of a red coat like burning embers.
The Phantom Thief's incarnation—
Arsène.
The enormous dark wings unfurled in the cramped classroom. Wing tips brushed the ceiling, shedding faint blue sparks.
It hovered behind Bai Qian. A masked head lowered, eye sockets burning with ghostly flame—
watching Mei.
The whole class went blank.
Screams jammed in throats, turning into helpless choking noises.
This was beyond their world.
Not magic tricks.
Not tokusatsu props.
A monster, real and present.
Mei tilted her head back to stare at it.
Was she afraid?
…No.
Arsène extended a giant gloved hand toward her.
It hovered—waiting.
Fingers tipped with blue fire.
Mei placed her hand into that palm.
In that instant, the giant hand closed around her.
Not crushing—
but firm.
Like grabbing the wrist of a drowning person who finally reached the surface.
Bai Qian lowered the Summoner and kept smiling.
"You don't have to care about those noises anymore."
His gaze flicked over the silent, petrified students—contempt unhidden.
"They're background props. NPCs. Dust."
Then he looked back at Mei.
And glanced over his shoulder at Kiana—whose face was red with excitement, eyes shining.
"Our fire…"
"…will set this world ablaze."
-------
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