The final result of the O5 Council's deliberations was to accept Alto-Clef's surrender.
He would be placed under controlled supervision to ensure he would not do anything harmful to either the Foundation or humanity.
On this basis, Alto-Clef was officially brought back into the Foundation—not as an agent, but as an experimenter.
It was obvious that, rather than sending him to a containment site for combat operations or abnormal executions, assigning him to research would be far more beneficial—both for utilizing his anomalous characteristics and ensuring safety.
This decision aligned with Alto-Clef's own request: to remain within Foundation sites, conducting research on anomalous items, while using counter-reality warpers to suppress his abnormal traits and prevent unwanted interactions with other anomalies.
The formal transfer was scheduled for one month later, which would serve as a review period for Alto-Clef's integration.
By that time, the parallel reality of the spirits had already been successfully stabilized.
Haruto could finally breathe a little easier—another major task completed.
And, recently, good news had been arriving one after another.
The Artificial Heaven Project had finally been completed.
Twenty thousand Misaka Sisters were deployed to various points across the Earth.
Through their linked network, the AIM-based field unique to superpowers was now spread across the entire planet.
With the aid of machines and the assistance of quantum computers in multiple facilities, the distributed AIM field had reached total stability—like the expansion of Academy City's fifth virtual district to encompass the entire world.
Within this Artificial Heaven, most powers of the mystical side were now completely suppressed.
Old-world magic systems—incantations, thaumaturgies, inherited sorceries—all had been rendered powerless.
Mysterious beings, once born naturally from human imagination, no longer appeared.
Ghosts from urban legends, snow women on mountaintops, or the infamous Hanako in the toilet—these entities had vanished into memory.
Though some psychic or memetic anomalies still defied restriction, the overall effect was clear: since the completion of Artificial Heaven, the number of naturally occurring anomalies in the main world had dropped to less than ten percent of the original.
For Haruto, this marked a massive step forward—another stride closer to his long-awaited retirement.
The only remaining threat now came from interdimensional anomalies—those that breached world barriers and intruded upon the main world.
But even that, too, was already being handled.
Experiments on repairing the world's boundaries were underway.
Haruto wasn't anxious.
For the first time in a long while, he could finally return to a normal daily life.
The graduation camp trip had ended, and now, on Monday morning, the graduation ceremony for Sobu High School's senior students was held in the auditorium.
In Japan, such ceremonies were often held just before the final sprint toward the national exams.
Haruto sat at the very front of the graduates' formation.
His eyes wandered across the auditorium.
When his gaze moved toward the first- and second-year students seated opposite the seniors, the difference in atmosphere was obvious.
The underclassmen were full of energy and light, while the graduates carried an air of quiet melancholy.
Haruto spotted a few familiar faces—but not many.
It was understandable.
During his first two years of high school, he had spent one year at Hyakko Academy and another at Shuchiin.
He had barely participated in any Sobu activities, so it would be stranger if he did recognize anyone.
Freshmen were always full of life and optimism.
Sobu High, the stage of Oregairu, was said to be the most youthful school among the "Three Great Academies."
By contrast, the graduates looked both nostalgic and bittersweet.
"Speaking of which, you haven't filled out your graduation application form yet, have you? Do you have any plans?"
Hiratsuka Shizuka, seated beside him, asked casually.
Graduation applications were usually filled out at the end of the second year, but since Haruto had not been attending Sobu during that time, his form remained blank.
The surrounding students perked up their ears immediately.
Everyone was curious.
After all, the "legendary" Haruto was sitting right among them—what kind of goal could he possibly write for graduation?
Would he go on to higher education?
Study abroad?
Or take an entirely different path?
Haruto, the student who had topped national exams for years, had already received direct invitations from the University of Tokyo, Waseda, and other top-tier universities.
And if he wished to study overseas, even Stanford would surely welcome him without hesitation.
That was why everyone's curiosity only grew.
What could possibly be the next step for Takamine Haruto?
"Graduation ambition?..." Haruto thought for a moment, then said casually, "I want to be the Prime Minister of Japan."
Hiratsuka blinked.
"...So you're planning to enter politics now?"
The classroom went quiet.
No laughter. No teasing.
Haruto glanced around in confusion.
"It's just a joke—why does everyone look like that?"
Everyone's lips twitched.
If any ordinary student had said that, it would've been funny—a lighthearted dream that would draw laughter.
But when Haruto said it… it sounded less like a joke, and more like a plausible declaration.
It was believable.
Almost too believable.
Haruto realized this after a moment and sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.
"To be honest, I don't have any lofty ambitions. I just want to live a simple, ordinary life," he admitted.
"After graduation, I'll probably go to Chiba University, maybe skip a grade or two."
That was his genuine plan.
After all the chaos, he finally had nothing urgent to do. Why not just live like a normal student for once?
He chose Chiba not because of prestige, but because he actually knew people there.
Three seniors were waiting for him—Mitsuha Miyamizu, Suzue Iwato, and Kasumigaoka Utaha, who had graduated last year and entered the Department of Literature.
With those three around, college life was bound to be... interesting.
Still, the matter of "skipping grades" would have to be handled soon.
Haruto wasn't great at dealing with seniors—not because of age, but because of how they liked to tease him every chance they got.
"As expected of Haruto," someone muttered. "Only he could call getting into a top university and skipping grades... 'unambitious.'"
That drew laughter and complaints alike.
A moment ago, everyone had subconsciously treated his words as if they were the most natural thing in the world—then realization hit.
Ordinary? Yeah, right.
Even if Chiba wasn't as elite as Todai, it was still a top-tier school!
Haruto had completely tricked them with his calm tone.
As the laughter died down, Principal Sobu stepped onto the stage, announcing the beginning of the graduation ceremony.
He kept his speech short, then handed the podium to the students.
"Next, please welcome Takamine Haruto, our graduate representative, to deliver his address."
Haruto stood up, walking toward the stage with composed, steady steps.
Kato Megumi had helped him draft the speech; he'd read it once before going on stage, and committed it entirely to memory.
Even so, under the bright auditorium lights, his calm presence and striking looks captivated everyone.
Even if he were just reading flatly, his every gesture held weight.
By the end, many in the audience were visibly moved—especially the girls, who wiped tears as soft sobs filled the air.
When the final line of his speech ended, rich music swelled behind him.
The background curtain drew open—revealing Sobu High's Ensemble Club, playing the school anthem.
Unlike most schools, where students avoided singing the anthem, Sobu students held deep pride in theirs.
To them, it was a mark of identity, a shared memory.
Soon, voices rose in unison.
The graduates began to sing, joined by underclassmen, their harmony filling the hall.
Haruto stepped down from the stage, his gaze catching on the musicians.
The performance level surprised him—good enough to compete nationally, something rare for a school known more for its academic excellence than its music.
And then, among the first-year students in uniform, he spotted a familiar face.
A girl—brand new to the school—but one he recognized immediately.
Komachi Hikigaya.
Haruto smiled faintly.
Not surprising.
This child had always had potential.
Sobu High's future was in good hands.
Sure enough, the next chapter of Sobu High belongs to them.