Jordan escorted Dante through the clean, white hallways of the prison. The LED lights above cast a constant sterile glow, reflecting off the smooth, polished floors.
A few steel-reinforced doors lined the sides—each leading to separate wings or holding blocks—but neither of them paid any attention to them as they moved forward in silence.
"So," Jordan broke the quiet, hands tucked behind his head casually, "how are your Story Guides doing? And… how are you doing as a Story Guide? I can't seem to remember the last time you acted honestly."
"I'm not interested in leading anyone through a Fragment at the moment. I have other things to take care of," Dante replied flatly, his tone making it clear this wasn't something up for discussion.
"Oh? Like what?" Jordan asked, not quite ready to let the topic go.
"Doesn't matter," Dante said, voice sharp and final.
Jordan sighed, getting the message.
He raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, I won't ask about it anymore." He paused for a moment, then shrugged with a light grin. "Instead… how about we go out once in a while? I won't lie, the guards here are all boring."
Dante lifted his gaze, genuinely surprised for a moment as he looked at Jordan. "Where did that come from? I've been coming here every month for a year, and not once have you asked to hang out."
Jordan gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha, yeah, well… You're an A Ranker, Dante. Even if you don't act all high and mighty like the others, it's still not easy for people like me to just walk up and talk like we're equals. Took me a while to get comfortable, I guess."
Dante stared at him for a second longer, then gave a small nod. "Fair enough."
He paused before continuing, "I heard the [Traveler] is going to recite a new Fragment soon—next week, I think. Word is, it's a fresh one no one's ever seen. Could be worth watching. If you're serious about hanging out, we could hit the Information Market and catch it live."
Jordan's eyes lit up with interest before narrowing slightly in thought. He stroked the rough, disheveled patch of beard on his jaw, muttering, "Mmm… That'll probably be expensive."
But then he grinned and shrugged. "Still, for the chance to make a real A Ranker friend? Could be a good deal. Alright, you're on. Just don't expect me to buy the popcorn."
Dante smiled faintly in return, but he didn't say anything more.
Instead, a quiet thought passed through his mind.
What does Jordan really want from me?
Was it just a casual offer of friendship? A simple attempt to break the monotony of his guard life? Or was there something else behind it—something more calculated?
After all, Dante wasn't just any A Ranker. He was one of the strongest in the entire Story World, not just within the White Clouds.
And beyond that strength, he carried influence.
His connections ran deep—directly to the upper echelons of the Grey Rose Organization, one of the strongest factions across the Story World.
That kind of backing wasn't something people ignored lightly.
He didn't distrust Jordan, not exactly.
The man had always seemed genuine. But Dante had been in this world long enough to know that few people ever approached someone like him without a reason—even fewer did so without expecting something in return.
As they made their way down the quiet white hallway, Jordan glanced sideways and asked, "So, Dante... what's your favorite Reciting of all time?"
Without missing a beat, Dante replied, "[Land of Legends]. The [Owl]'s Story done by the [Traveler] is the best reciting that Storyline ever received. One of the [Traveler]'s best."
Jordan let out a hum of agreement. "Yeah, that was a good one. Real good. But I gotta say, I prefer [Informant Z]'s stuff. Feels more grounded, y'know? More... gritty."
That one comment was all it took.
Dante slowed for a step and turned his head with a look of genuine disbelief. "You're comparing [Informant Z]... to the [Traveler]? Really?"
And just like that, the conversation snowballed into a full-blown rant.
Dante's words came fast, layered with sharp logic, precise references, and undeniable admiration. He pointed out how the [Traveler] didn't just Recite stories—he reshaped them, redefined entire Fragments with his presence, and made even the most overused tropes feel legendary again.
"[Informant Z] is clever, sure," Dante said, "but he plays within the lines. The [Traveler] redraws the lines."
Jordan could only laugh, hands tucked in his pockets as he listened.
He'd never seen Dante talk so passionately about anything before. Not even about Nova, and she was his own blood.
But then again... she was a criminal now. Maybe that was reason enough.
It wasn't long before they reached the end of the hallway—a lone black door standing in contrast to the pale walls around it.
Dante's voice, still mid-sentence about how the [Traveler] once rewrote an S-Rank Fragment's entire ending just by improvising a single line, came to a quiet halt.
His eyes locked on the door.
Because he knew who was waiting behind it.
His little sister.
Nova.
Jordan gave Dante a little space, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.
He waited patiently for a few seconds before breaking the silence. "So… should I open it?" he asked, gesturing toward the black door with a small security card in hand.
Dante kept his gaze on the door for another long moment, his jaw tense. Then he let out a quiet sigh and gave a subtle nod, stepping back to let Jordan move forward.
The door they were facing wasn't a visitation room. There was no table to sit across, no protective glass to speak through. This was a prison cell—plain and unadorned.
It was where Dante's little sister lived now.
Jordan swiped the security card over the flat scanner embedded in the wall beside the door. The screen flickered briefly, then turned green. A faint click sounded, and the thick door slid open with a dull mechanical hiss.
Inside was a small, sterile room lit by a muted overhead light.
One neatly made bed rested along the wall, its sheets tucked in tight. A simple metal desk with no drawers sat opposite the bed, bare except for a small digital clock.
A narrow door led to a private bathroom unit, and mounted on the far upper wall was a black surveillance camera, encased in a transparent dome of energy.
The field humming around the camera wasn't just for show. It was an A Rank suppression shield.
And it needed to be.
Dante's little sister was a C Ranker—not a monster, but not harmless either.
She wasn't shackled, because her crimes didn't warrant that level of restriction. She hadn't killed anyone, or if she had, she wasn't here for it.
The A Rank energy field was there to neutralize any sudden surge of power or rogue behavior. Against a C Ranker, it was more than enough.
But more importantly, Dante was here. An A Ranker. One of the strongest in the White Clouds, and among the top in the entire Story World.
If she lashed out... it wouldn't be a fight. It would be over in seconds. A C Ranker against an A Ranker was like a child throwing stones at a tank.
Dante stepped past the threshold, his boots echoing faintly against the sterile floor as he entered the room.
His eyes settled on the figure inside.
Nova.
His little sister.
She looked like a young woman in her early twenties, though the heaviness in her eyes made her seem older in spirit.
Her short, messy white hair framed her pale face, the strands falling slightly over crimson eyes, an unusual contrast that made her expression all the more haunting.
She wore a clean white suit patterned with intricate grey lines, like a ceremonial uniform that had long since lost its purpose.
At the moment, she was sitting quietly on her bed, her posture still but tense. A gloomy, unreadable expression was etched onto her face, and her gaze was fixed on the floor in front of her—until Dante walked in.
In front of her bed, a small black chair had been pulled out and turned to face her. It looked deliberate. It looked like she had been waiting.
As Dante stepped inside, their eyes met.
Jordan lingered near the door for a few seconds, sensing the atmosphere but choosing not to comment on it.
Then, with a light shrug of his shoulders, he spoke up in a calm, casual tone. "Alright, I'll leave you to it for now. When you're done, just open the door. It's unlocked from your side—will only lock again once you're out."
He gave a slight smile. "You know how the system works. No need for a repeat lesson."
With that, Jordan stepped back and pulled the heavy black door shut behind him. It closed with a muffled click.
Inside the small cell, silence took over once more.
Only Dante and Nova remained.
"You're here... again," the young woman said quietly, her voice flat but not cold.
"I am," Dante replied.
A beat of silence passed between them as he stepped forward and sat down on the black chair opposite her. The chair made a faint scraping sound on the floor, the only noise in the still room.
Dante let out a quiet sigh, his eyes briefly scanning the room before returning to her. He looked as if he wanted to say something important—but didn't know where to begin.
"How... how are you doing?" he asked, his voice low.
"I'm doing okay," she answered simply. Her eyes flicked toward him for a moment, then dropped. After a short pause, she added, "What about you?"
"I'm doing well too."
Another silence crept in, heavier than before. The air felt thick with unspoken things, and neither of them seemed willing—or able—to break it just yet.
"Why do you come here?" Nova asked after a long pause, her voice low, almost disinterested.
"To visit you, of course," Dante replied.
"Huh... And why do you want to visit me?"
"Because you're my little sister."
"Am I?" she said, her eyes narrowing just slightly. "You didn't seem to remember that for a long time. Only now you do?"
"I know," he said, his tone quiet. "I'm sorry."
"Your sorry doesn't help," she said flatly.
"I know."
Silence lingered again before Nova finally spoke, her voice softer this time. "So... what's been happening outside? Has the [Traveler] released anything new?"
Dante looked up at her.
For a moment, he hesitated—like he wasn't sure whether to answer honestly. But then he exhaled and gave a small nod. "He did, yeah. Found a new Fragment. S Ranked. Deeper than anyone's ever reached into the Sea of Fragments."
Nova raised her brows slightly, though her eyes didn't quite light up. "Sounds interesting... And?"
"It's called [Dark Lands of Sorrow]," Dante continued. "He's planning to recite its Story sometime this week—assuming nothing goes wrong."
"You plan to go?"
"I do," he said. "Jordan mentioned wanting to hang out, so I invited him to come along."
Nova looked at him for a second, her gaze unreadable—then she chuckled, a small dry laugh escaping her lips. "Haha... Look at you. Making friends and everything. It's nice, isn't it?"
Dante opened his mouth, but no words came. A knot twisted in his chest. Guilt burned through him like a silent scream. He wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out. So he just looked at her, and let the silence speak for him.
"You don't have to feel bad for me. I deserve to be here." Nova said, before adding, "I've asked this of you many times before, and I already know your answer, but I'll ask you again."
"Don't come here anymore."
Dante held her gaze for a long moment, the weight of the unspoken heavy between them. Then, with a steady, quiet voice, he said, "You know I can't do that."
"Yup, I already know... But worth a shot, isn't it? I mean, I'm sure Jordan and Lavia told you already, but I've been nice to work with this last month. See, I changed just like you wanted me to... No need to be worried anymore, right?"
"The fact that you changed only makes me more worried. It's not you," Dante said quietly, his eyes searching hers.
She smirked, a flicker of defiance in her crimson gaze. "Oh? And how would you know that? You don't even know me."
Dante's lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. The silence settled between them, thick and unyielding.
Nova watched him closely, her eyes narrowing just a little. "Exactly," she said, her voice quieter now. "You don't even know me."
Dante lowered his gaze, the weight of her words settling heavy in his chest. She wasn't wrong—and that truth cut deeper than any accusation.
"I want to," he said eventually, his voice low. "I'm trying to."
Nova let out a tired breath, leaning back against the wall behind her bed. "You're trying now, after everything's already broken. After I'm already locked in here."
"I know I'm late," he replied. "But I'm still here."
She scoffed, but there was no venom in it—just fatigue. "Yeah. You're always here… with that same sad look in your eyes. Like you're visiting a grave."
Dante clenched his fists lightly, resting them on his knees. "Because it feels like I am."
The silence that followed wasn't empty—it was thick, aching. Neither of them dared to break it for a long moment. Finally, Nova looked away and whispered, "You really shouldn't come anymore."
And once more, Dante only shook his head. "I can't."
Nova sat still for a moment, the weight of her thoughts visible in her stiff posture. Then she exhaled sharply, a bitter edge curling around her words. "I really don't understand you. For years, you didn't care. You barely looked back, barely even tried to find me… All for the sake of Hiros."
Her voice rose, cracking under the pressure she'd kept buried. "And then, out of nowhere—boom—you show up and suddenly want to play the role of big brother again?"
Anger simmered in her eyes, but it wasn't alone. Pain threaded through it, fragile and sharp. "Do you really think I can just smile and hug you back? Do you think I…" Her voice caught. She clenched her jaw, biting back whatever came next, and turned her face away, as if hiding the emotion spilling through her guard. "Tsk."
Dante exhaled slowly, his shoulders heavy with regret. "I'm sorry," he murmured, the words quiet but weighted. "I shouldn't have chased after Hiros… I should've looked after you. I shouldn't have left you… all alone."
He paused, his voice catching faintly as he stared at her averted gaze. "I don't know how to make it right, but I want to. We're still alive—there's still time. I don't know everything that happened to you, or why you did what you did… but I want to understand. I want to try."
Nova's answer came cold and immediate, her tone like a closing door. "I don't want you back in my life."
The words struck him like a physical blow. Something in him faltered, cracked.
"You don't get to leave my life and come back as you please," she added, still not looking at him.
She turned her eyes away completely now, her voice lower but no softer. "You want to check in on me? Fine. Bring me something to eat next time. Something to watch. Otherwise, don't bother. I don't want to reconnect. You're just wasting your time."
Dante stayed silent, his gaze lowering to the cold floor between them, hands clenched loosely on his knees. The silence dragged for a breath too long—then he spoke, his voice low, careful. "How's Marla doing? What about the rest of them?"
Nova's expression shifted immediately. Her eyes narrowed, shadows crawling into them as her jaw tensed. "I already told you not to ask me about them," she said, her tone quiet but hard. "Stop doing it every month... I won't answer, because you don't deserve to know."
Her voice cracked slightly at the edges, not with weakness, but the weight of long-held resentment. "You left us all behind... And we'll leave you behind too."
Then, with a bitter breath of laughter, she looked away, her expression twisting. "How'd your journey of going after the Hiros end? Look at you now—an A Ranker, the [Hiro Hunter], all mighty and mysterious." She sneered. "You've done well, so go on... Keep going. Kill all the Hiros or whatever it is you do. Start a new family while you're at it."
She turned her gaze back to him, colder now. "Your old one doesn't want you back."
Dante's lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond right away—he couldn't. Her words echoed louder than the silence between them.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, quieter than before. "I didn't come here to pretend the past didn't happen... I just—" he stopped himself. There was no point in defending what couldn't be undone.
He looked at her, the weight of years in his eyes. "I'm not trying to replace anything. I'm not trying to erase anything. I just wanted to see you."
Nova's gaze hardened, her jaw clenched. "Well, you've seen me. Congrats. You can go now."
...
In another part of the facility, past the white hallways and steel-reinforced gates, the surveillance room hummed with the soft whirring of machinery and flickering monitors. The glow of the screens cast pale light across Jordan's face as he sat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on one feed in particular—the small cell where Dante and Nova sat facing each other.
He wasn't watching because he wanted to eavesdrop. He was there because he'd been ordered to. The command had come from the Prison Warden, the only S Ranker stationed in the entire facility—a figure whose word carried the weight of law inside these walls.
Someone out there held a deep grudge against Dante. Enough hate to twist facts into fear. Enough influence to convince the Warden that the infamous [Hiro Hunter] might, one day, try to break his little sister out. It didn't matter that she was only a C Ranker. It didn't matter that Dante hadn't shown the slightest hint of rebellion. The paranoia stuck. So the order had been given: monitor every visit, track every movement, leave nothing unobserved.
At first, Jordan had been unsure. He barely knew Dante. Just rumors and secondhand stories. But a year had passed since those first quiet visits—and not once had Dante stepped out of line. No whispers, no subtle moves, no signs of manipulation or planning.
If anything, Jordan was certain of one thing now: Dante wouldn't try anything. Not for all the Cores in the Golden Space. His only crime, as far as Jordan could see, was trying to piece together a bond already shattered.
But the Warden's orders hadn't changed.
No matter how harmless Dante seemed, no matter how many visits passed without incident, Jordan was still required to monitor every second. Watch the A Ranker. Report anything suspicious. No exceptions.
So there he sat, eyes on the screen, listening through the hidden audio feed as the two siblings exchanged words inside the sterile confines of Nova's cell. The system captured everything. Every sigh, every pause, every bitter reply. Because, according to the Warden, they might be planning something—an escape, a trick, a betrayal.
Jordan didn't believe it. Not anymore. But belief wasn't part of the job. Orders were.
Dante, at least, knew he was being watched. It was one of the conditions the Warden had laid out before granting visitation rights. If he wanted to see his sister, he had to accept the surveillance—video, audio, all of it. And he had. Without argument, without hesitation.
Maybe that was the strangest part. He hadn't flinched at being monitored. Just nodded, like he expected it. Like guilt was already a price he had long since paid.
"I wonder what happened between the two of them," came a soft voice from the doorway.
Jordan didn't need to turn around. He already recognized it—his little sister, Lavia. Her footsteps were light but certain as she stepped into the dimly lit surveillance room, eyes drifting to the screen where the grainy feed showed Dante and Nova, the tension between them thick enough to feel even through a monitor.
"I wish I could help," she murmured, arms folded. "Dante seems like he really cares, but Nova... she's clearly still hurting from whatever happened. You can feel it in her voice."
Jordan nodded, his expression neutral but his eyes tired. "Yeah. Whatever went down between them, it left scars. I can't figure out what it was either. No Records, no trail, nothing on file from their past before she ended up here. It's like the story was scrubbed clean."
Lavia leaned against the back of his chair, staring quietly at the screen. Jordan spoke again, this time with a hint of irony in his voice. "Honestly, if Dante hadn't come forward, we wouldn't even have known they were siblings. No paperwork, no Story tags linking them, not even a shared last name in the Records."
Lavia sank into the chair beside him with a sigh. "Makes you wonder how much we really know about anyone here."
"From what I could find out, Dante seems to have left her behind to go and hunt down Hiros. That's everything I could get from listening to the two talk over the entirety of this last year," Jordan said, eyes still fixed on the monitor, his voice low and thoughtful.
"Who knows... That seems bad, sure... But it must be deeper than just that." Lavia leaned back, arms crossed. "Nothing much we can do about it. Dante himself is not a man of many words, and trying to talk to him is hard... Though..." She glanced sideways at her brother with a smirk. "Who knows, you might become real good friends with him."
Jordan chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. "Maybe. He invited me to watch his favorite Reciter this coming week—sounds like the [Traveler] will finally be back from his recent hiatus."
"Oh! That's cool... Hmmm..." Lavia tapped her chin theatrically, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Can you, like, convince him to bring Gara with him if he's back from his mission? And then bring me with you... And then, muhahaha! I can act all innocent and cute, and make Gara fall for me. Then you nudge him, and maybe he'll finally propose."
Jordan burst out laughing, a full, hearty laugh that echoed off the cold walls of the surveillance room. He knew she was mostly joking—but with Lavia, there was always a tiny part of him that wasn't entirely sure.
"Tsk, you know there are way better men out there, right? If you're so into the idea of marriage, I know a few decent guys."
"Nope." Lavia shut him down instantly, crossing her arms with a smug smile.
Jordan raised his hands defensively, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Hey! I'm your big brother, c'mon. You really think I'm just gonna point you toward some random guy to marry? Of course not. These are solid, decent men—one's a D Ranker, another's a C Ranker, and two are already B Rankers. Quality, I'm telling you."
Lavia crossed her arms tighter, her eyes sparkling with stubborn determination. "Don't care. I'll pick who I want to marry, and right now, no one fits the bill better than Gara. And since he hasn't flat-out refused me yet, I'm gonna keep trying. I won't stop until he tells me he's not interested."
Jordan was just about to reply when, suddenly, every monitor flickered and went dark—one after another—until the entire surveillance room was swallowed in black. Not just the screens, but the whole facility's lights cut out at once, plunging everything into complete silence and darkness.
—End of Chapter.
-------
Gara: Heyo everyone! I'm back, did you all miss me?
Dante: What are you doing here? This isn't your story.
Gara: I know, but like... C'mon, Lavia mentioned me... So like... You know, right?
Dante: Go back to the [Rashanz] Fragment and stop trying to steal my role. This is my story.
Gara: Wow! Look at you, [Hiro Hunter] and whatnot, serious tone and bah... Who do you think you are huh? If not for my story, no one would read yours.
Dante: You sure? More like your story's so boring they had to make an event about me to make people come back and continue reading.
Gara: Wow! You gonna go there? I got Leif in my story... So like... Yeah.
Dante: How sad, you have to use another character to brag about your story being better?
Gara left the chat and went to cry in a corner again.