When Jophiel opened the door, she was surprised to come face to face with the mailman — an old man with a wrinkled face and a wild mustache, always dressed in his vest and an oversized cap. He gave her a tired smile before handing her a thick envelope, sealed with a golden wax stamp and adorned with a floral embossed pattern. The scent it gave off wasn't the usual smell of dust and aged paper, but something lighter, sweeter — a blend of lavender, fresh ink, and dried roses. There was a kind of nobility in that fragrance. Then, without another word, the mailman walked away, dragging his worn-out satchel behind him.
Intrigued, Jophiel closed the door with her foot and examined the envelope under the morning light. It was beautiful — too beautiful. This wasn't an ordinary letter — not a bill, not a notice, but something more ceremonial. Her heart tightened. What if it was bad news? An eviction order? A warning from the district about Dante? They were already on bad terms with the neighbors. Her hand hesitated to break the seal. She wanted to open it, but before her fingers could reach the edge, Dante, who was passing behind her, snatched it without a word.
— "It's for me," he said coldly.
Jophiel stepped back, confused. He tore the envelope neatly and pulled out a shimmering sheet, as thin as a butterfly's wing, with gilded corners and old-fashioned calligraphy. A faint glow seemed to emanate from the letter, as if it had been blessed by some higher entity. He read it aloud in a neutral but curious tone:
"To Mr. Dante Godwin,
By this letter, we are honored to inform you that you have been admitted to the physical admission test of Genesis Academy, the 50th ranked Academy of Awakened Individuals in the world.
Your written test results, personal file, and energetic profile have caught our attention. Although your particular condition (see: affliction-corruption) raised questions within the committee, your exceptional theoretical skills and mental strength prevailed.
You are expected in Almeria — Capital of Almeris — before the first full moon of the month of Siven. Please find enclosed a transport pass.
Congratulations, and welcome among the Awakened.
For Order, Knowledge, and Transcendence.
Director Archon Thyméris."
A silence fell over the room. Jophiel brought her hands to her mouth, eyes wide as if she had just witnessed a miracle. She didn't scream — she didn't have the strength. Instead, she threw herself at him, hugging him with desperate strength, as if she feared he might vanish at any moment.
— "You… you did it… Dante… you got into Genesis… Genesis!"
Tears of pride and confusion welled up in her eyes. She could barely speak. She had never imagined her brother — this strange, tormented boy, consumed by a curse no doctor or priest had been able to explain — could get into such a prestigious institution. Not him. Not here. Not now. Genesis was more than a school — it was a dream, a sacred temple reserved for prodigies, heirs, and the chosen ones. An elite fortress perched at the summit of Almeris, where only the best were allowed to step foot.
But Dante said nothing. Or rather… it wasn't really Dante standing there. Kang Soo Jin, the millennia-old soul trapped in this corrupted teenager's body, looked at the letter with suspicion. He read it once. Twice. The words stayed; the logic escaped him.
— "He passed the written exams?" he thought, frowning. "Before taking his life, this kid actually took the tests? And passed?"
But he couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration. This body — this boy — had done something great. A final scream before fading away. He had left a door open. And now it was up to him, Kang Soo Jin, to step through.
— "How ironic," he murmured with a smirk.
Jophiel looked at him, still trembling.
— "What?"
— "Nothing. Just that… it's perfect timing. There are people I want to see again."
He turned away, his thoughts in turmoil. He was going to have to deal with spoiled rich kids soaked in arrogance, pompous teachers who thought they knew everything, and overrated teenagers convinced they were the chosen ones of a broken world. He would have to play a part, blend in, observe, learn, manipulate. It didn't thrill him. Not one bit. But it was an opportunity. The perfect cover.
Because despite his jaded demon façade, despite the centuries spent in the limbo, he still had a heart — or at least a shard of pride buried under layers of hatred. He would honor Dante's memory, make sure his name echoed through history. Not as a victim, but as a legend. A martyr turned hero. A rebirth through him.
And besides… he needed power. At the moment, his level was pathetic — barely a Class D mutant according to the World Government's system. A joke. Genesis, with its artifacts, its ancient instructors, and its secret libraries, would offer him far more than theory. It was a well of knowledge and power, a place where he could slowly but surely regain his former strength.
He looked at the letter one last time, folded it carefully, and slipped it into his pocket.
— "Jophiel. I'm going to have to leave."
She looked at him, eyes still wet.
— "I know, idiot," she said, her voice soft but firm. "But this time… you're not leaving to die, okay? You're leaving to live. And to shine."
A silence. Then he replied, in a tender tone:
— "We'll see what's left to save."