CHAPTER 59: THE MEDITATION CLUB

11:00 PM : Late Night – Gymnasium C

Saya and Scott slipped through the academy grounds like shadows, every creaking window or flickering dorm light sending them into silence, hearts pounding.

They couldn’t afford to be followed — not tonight.

Mina wasn’t with them, of course. With the kind of power she had, Dante said she didn’t need the same kind of training.

Still, her absence felt... off. Like they were missing a limb.

The gymnasium doors groaned open with the wind, then slammed shut behind them in a single loud sound.

The echo rolled through the empty space.

Standing dead center in the gym, arms folded, tracksuit zipped up, eyes cold and unreadable — was Dante.

— "Welcome to the Meditation Club."

Beside him stood a girl with glowing violet eyes and a long black braid. Giana — the infamous "witch" of the academy.

Saya gulped. Scott froze.

— "Oh crap," Scott whispered. "That’s her."

— "Y-Yeah," Saya stammered. "Giana. The one they say can steal your powers with a wave of her wand... or make you go bald."

Scott’s face went pale.

— "Wait, WHAT?! I just got my hair back under control—"

Giana blinked, clearly hearing them, then lowered her head with a small, embarrassed sigh.

— "I don’t even use a wand," she muttered.

A wooden stick came down hard on both their heads.

— "Ow!!" They both cried out in chorus.

Dante lowered his stick with a frown.

— "Stop believing every rumor you hear in the dorm toilets. You’re here to get stronger — not to act like gossipy little brats."

— "Yes, sir!" they grumbled in unison, rubbing their heads.

Dante nudged a black duffel at his feet and pulled out two small bottles.

He tossed them with sniper precision — Saya and Scott caught them instinctively.

— "Drink up."

— "What is this ?" Scott asked, holding the bottle up to the light.

— "Homemade energy potion." Dante replied, already turning back to his gear.

Saya sniffed the liquid cautiously.

— "Smells like a regular energy boost, but... the color—?"

She tilted the bottle. The liquid shimmered a glowing, phosphorescent blue.

— "Shouldn’t this be, like... purple ?" She muttered.

— "Usually, yeah," Scott added, frowning. "These things cost a fortune. You an alchemist or something? Even the ingredients for this cost more than my life insurance."

— "So our master secretly rich, huh ?" Saya teased.

— "Ever heard of the Godwinfamily ?" Scott added. "Some old Yorkshine nobility ?"

Dante’s sharp glare silenced them instantly.

— "...Right. Sorry."

— "Drink. Now."

Saya shrugged and took a sip.

Then coughed hard.

— "God—what is that taste?! It’s like expired gum mixed with low quality toothpaste and regret."

Scott drank his too, wincing.

— "Please don’t let us die from poisoning..."

Dante ignored them and gave Giana a nod.

— "Start the club’s first session."

Giana stepped into a taped circle on the floor, her voice calm but focused.

— "What we’re going to do is usually reserved for third-years. This isn’t cheap meditation or beginner’s yoga. This is a reactivation of your inner flow — the opening of your primary energy circuits."

— "...That sounds really culty." Scott muttered.

— "Shut up and sit big boy." Saya snapped, already getting into position.

— "Cross-legged," Giana instructed. "Back straight. Shoulders relaxed. Palms up. Inhale slowly through the nose... exhale through the mouth."

Her voice grew softer.

— "Now visualize a sphere of light at the center of your chest. That light is you. Not your past, not your rank, not your power. Just you."

Saya followed. And strangely enough... she felt it.

A small warmth blooming in her chest. Real, not imagined.

Scott peeked with one eye.

—"...I think it’s working. I don’t wanna die anymore. That’s gotta be progress, right ?"

— "Shut up." She hissed again.

Giana’s voice flowed around them like water.

— "Let the light spread. Down your arms. Through your legs. Into every muscle, every nerve, every breath."

Saya’s thoughts softened. Her heartbeats slowed.

Even her joints — aching from stress and fear — felt light.

Scott’s eyes widened.

— "Oh... damn. I’m floating. I swear I’m floating."

— "Saya is clearly more focused," Dante thought, arms crossed as he watched. "Scott lacks discipline."

After several minutes, Dante spoke again.

— "Alright. Ten more minutes of this. Then we fight. No breaks."

— "Wait, WHAT?!" they both cried.

— "You drank my potions. You’re using my time. This isn’t a spa. It’s training. So meditate now... because in five, you’re going to bleed."

Giana smiled faintly. She already knew the real hell was just about to begin.

Dante stood in the center, motionless.

— "One rule," he said at last. "Touch me. Even once — and you can go back to your beds. Fail ? We go again and again. Until your legs give out."

Giana had already started jotting down notes.

Saya flexed her fingers. Thin strands of glowing thread danced between them. Her brain raced.

— "He seems to be reading us reads us. Every step, every breath. So we mist feed him the wrong story. Misdirection and lies."

Scott crouched beside her, inhaling deep, his muscles priming for the blast.

— "Ready?" He muttered.

— "Not even close. Go."

— "One... two—"

Dante didn’t wait for three.

He stepped forward — fast — pivoting toward Scott like he’d read their plan on their faces.

— "Tch—! Shit!" Scott grunted, dodging hard.

Saya fired three energy threads — not at Dante.

But at Scott.

The threads snaked under his boots, looped around his ankles — and snapped tight.

Confusion flickered in Dante’s eyes.

And then—

Scott launched forward, like a cannonball, energy blazing around his fist.

It almost worked.

Yeah, almost.

Dante ducked—Effortless. The energy burst missed by inches, rattling the basketball hoop above.

He’s low, no shoulder tension.

— "He read the impact zone before the hit." Saya bit her lip."He’snotreacting — he’spredicting."

Dante’s heel struck the floor.

A tremor pulsed beneath Scott’s feet — subtle, just enough to unbalance him mid-flight.

Then Dante snatched his arm, twisted, and slammed him down in one smooth arc.

Thud.

Scott groaned, dirt and blood in his mouth.

— "Decent setup," Dante said. "But it has to come from him, Saya. Forcing it makes it robotic. And robotic is readable — like braille poetry."

Saya grimaced. Sweat already dripping down her face.

But she kept going.

Two threads in the air, one on the ground.

She twisted them into a trap pattern — obvious. Meant to catch his eye.

Then, from behind her back, a fourth thread — the real one — silent and precise.

— "Gotcha!" she whispered.

Dante turned his head slightly. Barely a twitch.

Two fingers flicked out, coated in red aura — and snipped the thread mid-air.

— "You overcomplicate. And you gave away the real line — your hips tensed. You want deception ? Don’t lead with your intentions."

Saya staggered back. The line fell limp.

— "He sees everything. I hate him. I HATE him."

Dante was walking again. Not fast, just steady — like death itself.

Scott forced himself upright, one arm limp.

— "I swear... I’m gonna tag you. Once, you bastard."

He slammed his palms into the floor.

Two explosions rocked the gym as he launched himself forward, riding the shockwave like a missile.

— "Finally using his head." Dante thought, faintly amused.

Saya threw a last gamble — The Threads Prison : A full dome of threads, a cage snapping shut.

A perfect trap.

Dante stepped into the center, closed his eyes, and raised both hands, glowing with raw energy.

He touched the dome and cut it — Clean and effortless.

Saya stumbled, breath caught in her throat.

— "No... That’s not... How did you—?"

— "No tricks," Dante muttered. "Just pressure versus flow. Physics, again."

Scott came in swinging — one last explosive blow.

Dante shifted his stance. Barely.

Then drove his palm into Scott’s chest with the mastery of a martial arts maste.

Scott dropped to his knees, breath stolen.

— "Too slow." Dante said.

Saya collapsed beside him, exhausted.

Giana had stopped smiling. Her pen moved quietly across the clipboard.

Dante approached them.

"You’re weak. Yeah." He announced coldly, he was not mocking, not cruel, just honest.

— "But you tried. You learned. You only learn if you try."

He looked at Saya.

— "Your power’s insidious. But you fight like a straight-A student hoping for praise. Be a liar. A trickster. Make your target look left while you stab right."

He turned to Scott.

— "You’ve got heart. But no strategy. You run at everything hoping it’ll work. Learn to think before you burn."

Neither spoke.

Saya stared at her fingers. Her threads had faded.

She wanted to cry, but she had nothing left.

Scott groaned into the floor.

— "...Why are we doing this ?" He whispered. "We can’t even scratch him..."

Dante exhaled.

— "Because someday... it won’t be me you’re facing. And the next guy won’t wait for you to ask why before he ends you."

He tossed them both water bottles.

— "Ten minutes. Then again. Stretch. Breathe. I won’t let you die — but I won’t let you stagnate either."

— "Giana. Note: coordination improved. But mindset not yet lethal."

— "Noted." she said, quiet.

Saya glanced at Scott.

He gave a weak smile.

— "You think we’ll ever beat him ?"

— "No," she said. "But we’ll keep coming back. Again and again. Until even he says : ’Damn...they’restillcoming?’"

Scott chuckled through the pain.

— "...That’s something, at least."