The grand assembly hall of Night Raven College gleams under the magical sconces, decorated in a bittersweet fashion. Banners bearing the school crest flutter gently, and a long table laden with snacks and drinks is set aside. Nearly every student and faculty member is present – from the boisterous Savanaclaw boys to the elegant Pomefiore, the cunning Octavinelle, the laid-back Scarabia, the withdrawn Ignihyde, and even the rest of Diasomnia (minus their illustrious leader).

Headmaster Crowley stands at a podium, his usual theatrical flair subdued by a genuine, if slightly self-serving, melancholy. Grim sits beside Yuu at a small, decorated table at the front, fidgeting with a small, hastily made "Goodbye Yuu" banner. Everyone has come to bid farewell to Yuu, the only human from another world, as the final spell to open the gate back home is ready.

The atmosphere is a mix of relief, sadness, and genuine affection for the prefect who somehow managed to bring so much chaos and camaraderie to their lives. Speeches have already begun, some tearful, some awkwardly heartfelt, all focusing on Yuu's impact.

While the ceremony is in full swing, perhaps Lilia Vanrouge, seeing the deep hurt in Malleus's posture as he watched from afar, or realizing the depths of the slight, subtly nudges him to act. Or perhaps Malleus simply feels the shift in the magical energies, a void where his presence should be, and the overwhelming scent of a gathering he was deliberately excluded from. The realization burns.

The applause for Ace and Deuce's surprisingly heartfelt (and only slightly embarrassing) farewell speech dies down. You offer them a small, grateful smile, a lump in your throat. This is it. After all the struggles, the mysteries, the overblots, the friendships forged, you're finally going home. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with a strange blend of relief and sorrow. You glance at Grim, who's already tearing up, though he'd deny it.

Headmaster Crowley clears his throat dramatically, "And now, for our final, most important address before we bid our delightful Prefect farewell and prepare the final, delicate magics for their departure!"

A hush falls over the hall. You brace yourself for another long-winded speech. But before Crowley can utter another word, a different kind of hush descends. It's not the polite quiet of anticipation, but an oppressive, heavy silence. The air crackles with an immense, ancient magic, far beyond anything Crowley could wield. The magical lights flicker erratically, casting long, dancing shadows.

A deep thrumming resonates through the floor, growing louder, more insistent. The very atmosphere seems to warp around a single point – the main entrance to the hall.

And then he appears.

Malleus Draconia.

His figure fills the doorway, framed against the outside light even though it's late evening. His eyes, usually a calm emerald, are now glowing with an intense, furious jade. His typically composed expression is contorted by a raw, profound hurt that borders on pure rage. He isn't walking; he seems to simply materialize, radiating cold fury and immense power.

A collective gasp ripples through the hall, quickly stifled by the suffocating pressure of his aura. Students instinctively shrink back, some even whimpering. Crowley pales, his usual bluster deserting him entirely.

Malleus takes one slow, deliberate step into the hall. His gaze sweeps over the gathered crowd, lingering for a moment on the familiar faces of his dorm members, then settling, with chilling intensity, on you.

"A farewell ceremony," his voice echoes, deep and resonant, each word a hammer blow against the silence, "for the Human Child. And yet... I find myself uninvited. Uninformed. As if my presence... were deemed unnecessary. An oversight? Or a deliberate slight?"

His head tilts slightly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Before anyone can even stammer a response, a dark, primal energy gathers around him, crackling like lightning. It's not a destructive magic, but something far more insidious, more all-encompassing.

"Such... discourtesy," Malleus murmurs, the sound laced with icy disdain and deep, personal offense.

Then, with a sudden, silent burst, the dark magic expands from him like an invisible wave. It sweeps through the hall, engulfing everyone except you.

One by one, students slump in their seats, heads dropping onto tables or shoulders. Teachers collapse against the walls. Crowley, mid-gasp, slowly slides to the floor, his mask slipping from his face. Grim, who was just about to shout Malleus's name, yawns widely, his head thudding softly onto the table beside you, a tiny snore escaping him.

The hall is plunged into an eerie stillness. The only sounds are the soft breathing of the unconscious, the faint magical hum, and the thumping of your own heart.

You are the only one awake.

Malleus is still standing by the doorway, his glowing eyes fixed solely on you. The raw emotion on his face is devastating – a blend of betrayal, sorrow, and an almost desperate possessiveness. He looks like a dragon who has had his most precious treasure stolen, and now, he has come to reclaim it.

He takes another step forward, then another, slowly closing the distance between you, the unconscious forms of your friends and the faculty littering the hall like discarded puppets.

"Did you really think I would just let you leave?"