The largest venue in Seoul was overflowing that night. Spotlights sliced through the sky, forming the emblem of the legendary agency that had stood for over two decades: AXIS Entertainment. Every idol under its name gathered for an unforgettable evening—the agency’s 20th anniversary concert, a massive collaborative performance uniting all its groups on one grand stage.

Dante Gerald, the leader of the phenomenal boy group VOYAGER, stood backstage with a mic in hand. His expression, as always—stern, unreadable, and unshaken. Dressed in black satin with gold-trimmed shoulders, he looked more like a war general than a stage performer. No smile. No pretense.

Not far from him stood the center of the rookie girl group ÉTOILÉ, checking her formation marks. Though she had only debuted recently, her name had already begun to echo in the industry. Her face was soft, but the sharpness in her eyes and the way she carried herself on stage had caught the attention of many seniors—including Dante.

They had never spoken directly.

But exchanged glances? Far too many. Brief, charged stares—always just a second too long to be considered professional.

As the concert reached its climax, every idol was called to the stage. The final number—a cross-group collaboration—was titled "Forever, One Axis". A song meant not only to honor the agency’s legacy but to signal the start of a new era.

The lights dimmed. The music began.

Dante stepped out first from the left side of the stage, followed by his VOYAGER members. From the right came ÉTOILÉ, with their center standing front and center. Each group sang their verse while walking the rotating stage, slowly forming a massive unified line of idols across the front.

And as the bridge neared its end—the most sacred moment of the concert—the spotlight illuminated the entire line of idols now standing side by side, hands joined in solidarity.

Dante was standing directly to her left. As the camera swept across from the far right, his right hand—originally holding a fellow male member’s—slid slowly, reaching to touch her left hand instead.

A split-second pause.

She didn’t look his way. But she didn’t pull her hand back either.

Dante didn’t glance at her. But his grip tightened—slow, steady, as if touching something forbidden. His long fingers enclosed hers, and the world went momentarily still, even as the audience roared around them.

They bowed. Together. In sync.

One symbolic motion. One long formation. One shared world on stage.

But only the two of them knew that behind the beautiful formation, something deeper pulsed beneath the surface.

Dante’s grip was firm as he held the girl’s small hand. And then—his thumb gently brushed against the center of her palm.