Shea grinned, swinging her warhammer. "When have we ever taken the safe route?"

And there, at the teacher’s desk, sat a version of Hajime in a pristine uniform, glasses gleaming.

And he was terrified of Hajime.

"Liberators," Tio muttered, her dragon eyes narrowing. "No... corrupted vessels. Ehit is reusing his old puppets."

"That was the last of the Great Labyrinths on this continent," Yue said, her crimson eyes calm but sharp. "But the whispers from the Divine Mountain have grown louder."

"You’re not a hero," Ehit’s voice boomed. "You’re a glitch. A malfunction. I will delete you."

At the colosseum’s core, they found him: a boy no older than fourteen, chained to a throne of screaming faces. His hair was white, his eyes bled light, and his voice echoed with a thousand voices.

Here’s a short story continuation based on the premise of , picking up right after the events of Season 2. Title: The Cradle of the Mad God