Ashen Requiem
Chapter 53: The House of the Weak

Chapter 53: The House of the Weak

As the turbulent day came to an end and the sky turned orange, the sun dipped beneath the horizon of Exodus Isle.

Students, some chatting excitedly and others trudging in silence, made their way toward their assigned quarters for the first time.

The Genesis Academy campus sprawled like a jeweled city—modern, gleaming, and generously funded.

Its dormitories were usually architectural masterpieces, each more grand than the last.

But this wing—the one that housed HouseIgris—stood at the edge of the campus, almost forgotten.

— "That’s here." Shigeo said, pointing toward a moss-covered building.

Dante didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on the structure before him.

It looked more like an abandoned inn than student housing.

Its walls were aging poorly, the dark paint peeling at the edges.

The windows were fogged from years of neglect, though not shattered.

Behind them, faded curtains bearing a pattern of wolf.

It wasn’t that House Igris was poor. It was ignored. And in Genesis Academy, being ignored was worse than being broke.

A tarnished bronze plaque read : HouseIgris.

The heavy door groaned as they pushed it open.

Inside, they stepped into a large circular hall. The ceiling was high and arched like a chapel’s.

Chandeliers hung precariously from chains, still functional but tired.

Everything here was a shade of blue—from the worn carpets to the faded velvet couches that seemed to come from middle age.

They climbed the stairs to a second-floor landing, where an open room welcomed them. It was a lounge, solemn and quiet.

Students were already lounging in every possible pose—some perched on railings, others lounging on sagging cushions.

All of them wore the same uniform : a navy coat with gold buttons, matching slacks, and a cap with a wolf insignia.

They were... odd.

One boy had slitted pupils and was laughing with a girl whose face bore feline features.

Further down, a hulking pale-skinned guy with two rifles crossed on his back drank tea.

Another sat quietly with a sword at his hip, his presence so subtle it felt like he was half-absent from the world.

Not a single trace of white energy.

— "Welcome to House Igris." Shigeo murmured, tapping Dante’s shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Then, a shift.

The room turned slightly as a figure entered.

A tall, composed man walked in with the posture of a noble.

His hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore a long royal-blue cape that trailed behind him, fastened by silver clasps. His steps were calm, unhurried.

There was no arrogance in his gaze. Just a quiet tiredness.

That was Eldridge Oberon.

— "Eldridge Oberon," someone whispered beside Dante. "Fourth year. Rank B. The weakest house leader—but the most respected."

Rumor had it that Eldridge was chosen not because he was the best, but because no one else wanted the job. But he had accepted.

Because, he once said, no one deserves to be alone.

He ascended the small stage in the middle of the hall and picked up the microphone resting on the podium.

— "Good evening," he said gently. "Thank you for being here."

The silence wasn’t hostile—just indifferent.

— "As with every year, we welcome new faces into our house. House Igris... doesn’t have the most glorious reputation. I know."

The older students sighed inwardly. They’d heard this speech before.

— "But we have an identity. A home for those who’ve been turned away. And maybe this year... maybe this year will be different."

Polite nods. Suppressed yawns.

Dante narrowed his eyes. The words weren’t empty.

Eldridge meant them. But he sounded... tired.

Like someone who kept believing even as belief wore him down.

— "House Igris has always been a place of refuge," Eldridge continued. "A home for the unwanted. We may not be strong. Not yet. But this is where people are reborn. This is where second chances live. I hope... that you’ll honor that. That you’ll shine, even from the shadows."

Sparse applause. A cough from the back. Someone scribbled lazily in a notebook.

Something in Dante twitched.

He stood.

The room turned toward him, puzzled.

He hadn’t planned to speak. He didn’t know these people.

Hell, he barely knew the academy. But something in this quiet resignation—choked him.

He walked up and grabbed the mic without asking.

Eyes followed. Some curious, some bored.

He inhaled. Then spoke—calm, steady :

— "I know how you feel. I see it in your eyes."

He paused, meeting gazes one by one.

— "You’ve gotten used to being last. To being the ’weaklings.’ The ’rejects.’ They made you believe your worth is defined by how they see you."

Stillness.

— "We start to think that’s normal, don’t we ? Getting walked over. Treated like trash... just because we’re not ’white.’ Because we carry a trace of corruption."

His voice hardened.

— "But here’s something they don’t want you to know. Dark energy? It scares them."

Brows lifted.

— "Not because it’s sick. But because it’s powerful. Raw and unpredictable. That’s why they suppress it. That’s why they laugh at it. Because they can’t control us."

People were sitting up straighter now.

— "They want us on our knees. Because standing ? We’re a threat."

He stood tall.

— "Not this year. Not anymore. Not because the captain said so. But because we say so. Together."

He pointed at them.

— "This year... everything changes."

Silence.

Then a clap.

Another.

Then a wave.

The room erupted. It wasn’t just applause—it was release. Laughter, disbelief, shoulders relaxing for the first time.

— "Holyshit..." someone muttered.

Even Eldridge smiled like a big brother watching his younger sibling take their first real step.

Some students stood. Others exchanged glances, newfound spark in their eyes.

Dante stepped down without flourish. He nodded once at Eldridge, who returned the gesture with quiet gratitude.

---

At the far back of the hall, a boy with an unremarkable face turned away.

On his collar was a tiny device. A red LED blinked silently.

He had recorded everything.

---

The welcome ceremony concluded. New students were called one by one and handed their uniforms—two sets per person.

One was navy blue with a stiff collar, adorned with a small iron wolf on the chest. For classes.

The second was light gray—used for outings and extracurricular activities.

Each student wore a single gold button on the left sleeve to mark their first year.

Eldridge bore four.

Shigeo, slipping into his uniform, let out a laugh :

— "Looks like we just signed a contract to sink with style."

Dante said nothing.

He looked at the small wolf emblem on his chest.

And for the first time in days... he felt the urge to help like in his old life.