Ashen Requiem-Chapter 66: Level 9 Anomaly

After the incident, Dante wasn’t handcuffed, interrogated, or even formally accused.

He was simply... locked up.

His room had become a cell.

A gilded cage, furnished like all the others : a bed, a desk, a bookshelf — and now, a camera lens on the ceiling.

Microphones, hidden in corners, eavesdropped on every whisper, every sigh, every trembling breath.

He’d been informed coldly : "as a precaution," pending the arrival of the Inspectors.

A special team, mandated by the High Council for Academic Regulation, dispatched to investigate what they called a "Level 9 anomaly."

Dante didn’t protest. He didn’t have the strength.

Ever since he found Johanna lying in that pool of shadow and blood, everything had been a blur.

He still felt the pain he had absorbed from her — raw, gnawing.

His heart beat with the same silent plea :

— "Please let her live. Just let her live."

He’d dropped to his knees. But when the house leaders arrived — when Archon himself had stormed down the corridor — all they saw was him, drenched in the blood of a noble.

So they locked him away in his room — like a child who has been scolded.

Not as punishment — not yet — but because no one wanted this scandal getting out.

Especially not with the Genesis Morning sniffing around for its next headline.

Outside, students still laughed, still gossiped around the fountains like nothing had happened.

As if the heart of the academy hadn’t trembled the night before.

[Administrative building: Director’s office]

In his office, Archon stood at the window, unmoving.

In his hand, a porcelain cup of bitter black coffee.

His gaze pierced the schoolyard — not focused on anyone in particular, yet watching them all.

He looked composed. But inside, something stirred — an old chill.

A familiar fear he thought buried twenty years ago.

— "A Level 9 anomaly."

That wasn’t nothing. Levels weren’t assigned randomly.

They marked thresholds — reality-warping events so severe that even inquisitor generals struggled to comprehend them.

Yesterday, Genesis Academy had buckled.

For one moment, space itself had folded inward.

And in that fracture, something smiled.

And at the center of it all : A rank E student.

[Name : Dante Godwin.]

[Rank : E]

— "Rank E, yeah right."

— "So now we’ve got a Rank E suspected of assault, a model student in a coma, and demonic energy that literally froze time."

Thymeris sipped the coffee. Then immediately set the cup down.

Too bitter.

Or maybe... it was the situation that was.

Dante Godwin. A nobody’s son. Late transfer. Scholarship granted under observation.

And now ? All over the internal reports. No suspicious history. No behavioral flags. No mentor. No official tutorship.

No attachments. No past.

And now, a girl in critical condition, evacuated in secret off-island.

And him — the only suspect. Found at the scene.

Thymeris had ordered absolute silence.

They couldn’t afford a scandal. Not before the Academy Summit.

But what use was a cell if the real enemy was sleeping in a student’s bed ?

Dante’s room didn’t look like a prison. But the cameras, the energy sensors, the invisible guards — they turned it into a bright tomb.

Thymeris exhaled, turning away from the window.

On his desk lay a dossier:

[Document 13 – Clearance Required : Secret Protocol]

He didn’t need to open it. He knew exactly what it was.

Room 13.

The name alone tasted like poison.

An ancient wound, never healed. He still remembered it — a waking nightmare : Theodorus Academy.

Once a shining beacon, wiped out overnight.

A coordinated assault from the inside. Teachers corrupted, students secretly indoctrinated.

Room 13 wasn’t a club. It wasn’t even a cult. It was a congregation of chaos. The Beadt heralds.

Back then, they tried to bury the story.

The massacre was so vile, they simply erased Theodorus from the global rankings — formerly Top 10 — rather than expose the truth.

Alcyon city had barely recovered.

The survivors ? They no longer spoke.

Those who remembered... went mad.

Psychiatrists spoke of a veil of fear — a lingering psychic residue left behind by abyssal entities.

And now, yesterday... the same energy. The same stench. The same dread.

Thymeris folded his arms behind his back and closed his eyes for a moment.

He saw himself, younger, standing in another council room.

He clenched his jaw.

That day, he’d seen students burst apart from the inside, professors turn on each other, doors spilling out screaming horrors.

There had been blood on his sleeves. Screams in the corridors. And a gaping, laughing rift hovering above the fire.

It was a sabbath. A mass sacrifice to feed some godless creators from the void.

And behind it all... Room 13.

Was it a club? A sect? Demonic worshipers? He still didn’t know.

But he did know this :

They recruited among dark-energy users — which only strengthened the segregationist policies.

And wherever they appeared, it was already too late.

Was Dante... one of them?

Or worse... a harbinger ?

Thymeris slowly closed the file.

— "We need answers." he murmured.

He activated a seal. A blue light flared on the desk, forming a hologram circle.

— "Call the Inspectors. Lock down the island."

He paused, voice low.

— "That kid... Dante."

A Rank E. Unstable. Already under surveillance.

And yet... capable of withstanding high-tier demonic pressure and walking away?

There were only three possibilities :

• He was far more powerful than anyone believed — perhaps powerful enough to shatter the assessment stone.

• He was being hunted.

• Or worse... he was one of them.

And any of those three... were reason enough to justify the worst decisions.

[Room 304 — Day 2. 3:21 PM.]

Dante sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them.

Motionless, silent. Eyes fixed on a single spot on the floor.

He’d counted... fourteen rings in the tile pattern.

Every ten tiles, a micro scratch.

The mental routine of a man locked away, watched, and slowly dissected.

Even his breath sound against the surveillance bugs.

— "They think I did it." A thought that returned. Again and again.

He hated those cameras.

Not because they were spying.

But because they waited. Like vultures circling a man not yet dead, just dying.

He’d stopped talking. Stopped protesting.

What was the point ? He had nothing to prove to these walls.

But the waiting...

That waiting was a slow poison.

He’d known interrogations before — in his old life.

Back when his power was his weapon, and fire his verdict.

But never like this.

Because now, he was alone.

And he was no longer the executioner.

He was the lamb, about to be inspected for sacrifice.

4:04 PM.

The biometric lock — newly installed, replacing the standard handle — clicked softly as it disengaged.

Dante didn’t look up right away.

He felt them before he saw them.

Two figures in black trench coats — no academy uniforms, no crest. One grabbing a suitcase.

— "Dante Godwin?"

He finally raised his eyes.

Looked directly into the speaker’s gaze.

A bald man, sharp face. Gloved hands, even in this heat.

— "We’re with the Bureau of Anomaly Inspection – B.A.I. I’m Inspector Eren. This is my colleague, Inspector Rya."

The woman gave a small nod, no smile.

— "This interview will be recorded. A military-grade truth probe will be used. Your cooperation is mandated by the High Committee. Refusal equals immediate expulsion."

— "...I’ve got nothing to hide."

— "Good. Then let’s begin."

The suitcase was placed on the desk.

From it, they pulled out a glass cylinder, mounted on a dark copper base.

— "Subject: attempted murder. Interrogation begins."

— "It’s a lie detector. Any emotional spike, any spiritual interference, tampering or manipulation — it will pick it up immediately. You’ll hear a warning tone. If you lie... it’ll hurt."

Dante gave a bitter smile.

— "Charming."

— "They’re not here to understand me. They’re here to break me."

Rya spoke, voice calm but firm.

— "Where were you between 3:43 and 3:59 PM the day before yesterday?"

— "Journalism club room. I interrupted an interview, then felt an anomaly. I... went straight to the council chamber."

— "No point denying I crashed the interview."

The detector let out a soft beep.

"Truth Index : 68%."

A skeptical glance from the inspector.

— "The medical report confirms Johanna was struck. Clawed. Why are you the only witness?"

His fists tightened.

— "I... tried to save her."

Another beep.

"54%."

A low tone buzzed in the air.

Their eyes narrowed.

Dante forced a smirk.

— "They know it’s true. But if I speak too plainly... they’ll uncover everything."

— "Do you recognize your fingerprints... among the marks on her ?"

He stared at his hands.

— "Claws ? Those weren’t mine."

— "No... not mine." He didn’t deny having claws while not revealing that he had claws.

Beep.

"40%."

Dante exhaled — a small victory.

Eren remained unfazed, continuing.

— "Why would you, Dante Godwin, Rank E, be capable of detecting a Level 9 anomaly... and resisting it?"

— "There it is. The real reason they’re here."

Dante inhaled slowly. Sweat slid down his temple.

— "I don’t know. But I felt it. In my body. Like..."

He searched for the words.

— "Like my adrenaline spiked to the limit in that exact moment. Maybe that’s what let me withstand the pressure."

The cylinder hummed faintly — not a lie, not entirely true.

Rya frowned.

A silence followed.

Then she stepped closer — very close from his face. She whispered :

— "Tell me, Dante. Do you still hear it? The voice that speaks through blood?"

The Voice — the one some mutants heard. The one that whispered for flesh, for violence, feeding their impulses.

Dante’s eyes widened.

He leaned back a fraction.

His lips tightened. And for a second, his heart stuttered.

— "She thinks I’m a mutant?"

— "No." he replied, flatly.

The cylinder exploded in a flash of red. A shrill tone pierced the air.

A stab of pain slammed into his left temple.

Dante screamed, collapsing backward.

The device crackled... then powered down.

Eren stepped forward.

— "Thank you. That was... very revealing."

— "They’re listening. But is it enough?"

The inspectors exchanged a glance. One nodded. The other took notes.

— "Next question : Room 13. Do you have knowledge of the demonic cult associated with it?"

— "No... I... I don’t know anything."

The needle flickered.

"33%."

Dante wavered — a flicker of panic.

He really didn’t know, It was the first time he had heard that name.

Or maybe... this body know.

The inspectors exchanged another look — this time, longer.

Eren stood up.

— "We’re done for today. But doubt remains, Mr. Godwin."

— "You’re the only witness. And right now, your word carries little weight against the victim’s silence."

He moved toward the door.

Eren added, while packing the device back into the suitcase :

— "I hope you understand what that means. If she doesn’t speak within three days...

We’ll decide."

He reluctantly accepted Rya’s hand as she helped him up — formal, distant.

Eren looked up at the ceiling. At the camera.

— "Very well. Bring in the witnesses."

They walked out and the door closed behind them.

The click of the lock sound like a sentence.

Dante remained seated, empty of emotion.

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