Lure dashed out of her room with red, watery eyes. Sobbing sounds could be heard in every corner of the dormitory.

She was hugged from behind by softs arms. This familiar lavender odour. A pleasant scent.

Sinistra said, shaking, "His death won’t be in vain.”

A warm feel swayed through Lure as she understood that she wasn’t alone in her mourning. “No, his death will mark the beginning of something new. I’ll carry his legacy.” She took the special watch out of her pockets and observed the intricate patterns that formed on the clock face. Although she couldn’t make sense of any of them, she instinctually knew that this artefact, or whatever it was, may be the only way to fight The Judge.

Sinistra was about to say something but was interrupted by the speakers, and, to Lure’s surprise, Lumière’s voice resounded on the hallway. “Dear students, you might not know me yet, but I, Lumière, am the new headmistress. Everyone grieves, for we have lost a great hero.”

The young villainess' own worldview was toppled, since she could not trust her ears anymore. Did Lumière really make a 180° turn? Her emotions sounded genuine.

“I invite you to join the festival hall where we will hold a minute of silence.” The students moved wordlessly in a row and their heads were downcast as they realized the weight of living. Unlike normally, the boys, who came from a different wing, weren’t rowdy either and behaved like little angels, a rare sight indeed.

The festival hall, once a lively place for grand banquets and eulogies, had turned into a place of deadly silence and reflection as everyone sat down. Quietly, the students contemplated what had transpired half an hour ago, about witnessing the truth.

Lumière appeared on a pedestal and her face was groomed but tired as well. She took a deep breath and said, “In these dark times, we must all band together. We must aid everyone who is about to fall in despair. Huic had brought us the fire that shall illuminate our path!” The dominant and perhaps sometimes arrogant heroine didn’t sound convinced herself. But nobody could blame her. Nobody truly had the courage anymore.

“I’m sorry for this inconvenience. You can go back to your room.”

Lure asked Sinistra about the last evening on their way back, and her friend explained to her what had happened. The blonde villainess whispered, “So Lumière decided to become the principal after my forcefully induced sleep and she managed to acquire the office in less than half an hour.” Sinistra nodded. The quagmire that was the Philosophers’ government was unfathomably deep. Apparently, Lumière had even managed to charge through the jungle of bureaucratic misery, where many lesser fell into the pitfalls of meekness and indecision or bad luck.

“How’s your brother?”

“Thanks for asking. Lumière forgot about him. I have waited in front of the headquarters until she took me back against my will. No chance to escape.”

Teleporting back to the base was only feasible if space wasn’t compromised in any way. B-rank heroes already affected their environment too much for it to work.

“Typical, heroes.”

“Don’t be so loud.” Sinistra covered with her hand Lure’s mouth. Several students were already looking at them with big, smiling eyes.

“Sidenote, I think she sees a little sister in you.”

“Wait. Really?”

Sinistra pulled her arms behind her back. “Your dumb plan somehow succeeded.”

Lure theatrically waved with her arms, “Dumb plan? She would have never retaliated against us since we are minors.”

When they arrived back at their rooms, they said goodnight and went sleeping. Albeit, sleeping was what Lure intended to do, in reality, she slept at most three hours because the fate of humanity weighed on her shoulders.

The following morning, students had a day off as even the staff members were too shocked to start working again. Witnessing the true misery they were born in, humans started reflecting on their life choices, on the meaning of everything they held dear. Everyone was perplexed, confused and tragically hurt when the NIP announced that in one night, hundreds of people were poisoned by despair and chose the easy way out: suicide.

Lumière had decided to meet Lure in the headmast – mistress' office. The new principal was sitting in this heavy fauteuil, reminiscent of other, more innocent times. Old-fashioned windows were half-open and a cold breeze came in. Oh, it weighted, the past truly did. No words could describe, no sounds could convey and no feelings could encompass what this place meant for humanity. Here, a hero had planned for the future of humankind; here schemes against The Heavens had been wrought. And here lay his heritage.

She spoke to the young villainess, loving and with tired red eyes, “Have you slept well?”

Lure muttered, “No,” and looked away from the blonde heroine, “Who could…?”

“Silly question, right? I ain’t make for a great conversation partner at the moment.” Her hair looked like a ball of cat fur; something terrible must have happened.

“Right. Right. Right.” Lure wasn’t yet in a condition to utter coherent thoughts.

“Since your father and your mother are … inhibited and the whereabouts of our brother is unknown, you need an adult taking responsibility for your development.

“And I guess, you’ll do it.”

“That’s right. I shall help you reach the path of a proper heroine. Don’t ask. I know that you tried to manipulate me, though I see genuine love in how you treat your fellows.” She leaned forward over the desk and tried to embrace Lure who moved forward as well to reciprocate the gesture.

So in the end, Lure somehow succeeded. Now she only needed to find a way to leverage her gains, though of course, she didn’t mind Lumière as a person. The heroine possessed a certain kind of believe that seemed immovable, confidently able to weather the most difficult hardships. Now that Huic had gone, society needed a new beacon of hope, one as radiant and splendid as Lumière. “Huic, Huic,” Lure whispered his name. While embracing Lumière, several tears drops fell down her cheeks. With her finger, she gobbled one up and it tasted salty.

They let go.

“What now?” asked the teenager.

“I’ll make sure the formalities are done if you agree.”

“I do.”

Lumière smiled not vigorously, but contently. “I’ll be your caretaker then.”

“Thank you. Do I need to sign somewhere?”

She giggled. “The pleasure is mine. No, you don’t. My ways work faster.”

Lure leaned back on her seat and reflected a bit on what had happened. Her newly found sister didn’t mind the pause she took. In those miserable times, compassion was needed, and even collaborations between heroes and villains, though this path would be blocked by many stones if not boulders.

Do you want to speak about your family situation? The headmistress was playing with a pen, swirling it around incautiously.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to speak about this topic. It does still haunt me even today and I don’t want to re-experience certain memories.

With pitiful eyes, the heroine looked at her protégée and decided not to inquire further. Lure left the office since everything important had been talked about, though she went with a bad aftertaste in her mouth.

Three days after Huic’s death, a big funeral ceremony had been prepared. Every nation had sent ambassadors to honour the now deceived hero and his accomplishments. The Pope had officially declared The Judge as the Devil, though several Christians believed him to be the Antichrist, the harbinger of the end of the world. The last three days had indeed been hard to the morale of the civilians as countless shots could be heard all over 3N. Violence, the act to hurt others, had regressed to an all-time low. Suicide, however, was on the rise.

Lure was sitting near Ura, the girl with the very long pink hair.

“I’m glad that we can be part of the Anti-Suicide Squads,” said the pink girl.

A measure to fight the accruing number of deaths, born from necessity. What times. Another loud parade, this time glorifying Huic’s and the humans’ fighting spirit while the true problems were pushed under the carpet.

The young villainess and her teammate observed from a vantage point on top of a roof the cheering crowd and were tasked to identify possible ‘Deathcallers’, as were called those who committed suicide.”

“I got one,” exclaimed Ura. One of her abilities was called Discerning Eye, enabling her to perceive the unusual among the usual. As a matter of fact, she was one of the best-suited heroes for this type of mission and Lure was merely appointed as her nominal bodyguard. Unlike Ura, Lure needed binoculars to discern anything of importance. It was difficult to perceive anything from the roof of a seven-floor building. She grabbed some cookies and chew the tasty paste made out of sugar and chocolate while her frustration decreased ever so slightly with every bite.

“Let’s just do our work.” She sighed and grabbed some more cookies. Life had suddenly even become more difficult for everyone.

They contacted the ground forces and watched as several heroes neutralized the threat.

Some of the Deathcallers were actually doomsayers and tried to kill as many people with them as possible, disregarding the sanctity of life.

“As a new order came in, both of them regrouped in the cemetery where Huic would be buried. None of his ashes was left. It didn’t matter. Not at all. Humans only need a symbol, in this case for hope. Lure and Ura stood together in a row with more than two hundred heroes. When a pitch-black car drove into the cemetery, millions of people were weeping and demonstrated their deep running sympathy and condolences for the hero. Even though the shootings couldn’t be prevented, and Lure could swear she even smelled gunpowder in the air, the people on the streets stood united and didn’t abandon Huic’s last voyage.

Standing together with her comrades – even though they were heroes – she felt some kind of pride not only for doing the right thing but for knowing Huic as well. Because of their primitive relationship, despite it being for a short time, she felt close to him. A teacher, he was a teacher. A bad one. Definitely. Still someone dear to her, someone who wanted her best. Despite the fact that he had cost her her father, she couldn’t condemn him, for he did it for her own sake and the greater good. This, she could understand, and she might have done the same if she had been in his shoes.

An urn was taken out of the car. The media spoke already about Huic’s gift, similar to Pandora’s gift, for he brought both despair and hope, more of the former than the latter.

As everyone present was watching how the urn was transported through the cemetery, and countless camera teams were recording every single moment, the orb disappeared.

No sound, no explosion.

Even Lure gasped. How?

“Find the thief!” someone shouted.