At first, it was just another rumor.
A whisper in the hallways, carried by the crinkle of recycled newspaper — The GenesisMorning, that cursed rag pretending to "reportwithobjectivityandintegrity."
Nothing too serious. Just some insinuations, clickbait headlines, cheap wordplay shoved at the bottom of the page.
But soon, it was daily. And soon, it wasn't funny anymore.
Faces lit up around the automated news kiosks. Fingers pointed. Suppressed laughter echoed through the cafeteria, the clubs, the lecture halls.
Every morning, Dante was there.
Every morning, a fresh jab.
"Dante and Giana: Cursed Lovers in the Academy's Basement?"
"A Hero? Or Just a Guy Who Picked the Right Witnesses?"
"The Body of a Killer, the Rank of an E... So Who's Lying?"
Where most students would've cried injustice or tried to defend themselves, Dante stayed silent.
He didn't buy the paper.
He didn't respond to anyone.
