As the anticipation climbed higher and higher, the dramatic swell of the music tightened around the theatre like a vice. Stage lights cut sharply through the darkness—gold, white, then deep shadow again—each beat of light syncing with the audience's racing pulse. You could almost hear hearts thudding beneath ribs, collective breath held hostage by what was about to happen.
Foca stepped forward.
"Before anything," he began, his voice steady but deliberate, "I would like to confess something."
The room stilled instantly.
"I admit that in the beginning, this program's main goal was simple." He paused, letting the words sink in. "To find exceptionally talented artists to fill the remaining numbers for an already existing debut group."
The lights shifted.
A soft spotlight illuminated the corner of the stage where Ahn Jae, August, and Silas stood—polished, poised, already carrying the quiet gravity of artists who had crossed a threshold. They stood tall beneath the Bread Music banner, unmistakably home.
"But," Foca continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "as days turned into weeks… and weeks into months…"
The music softened, warmer now.
"I witnessed something I hadn't anticipated." He looked across the trainees—faces tight with nerves, eyes shining with hope. "I watched young, raw talent bloom. Slowly at first. Then all at once."
His voice grew more candid.
"And honestly?" He exhaled lightly. "I wanted to keep many of you for myself."
A ripple of surprise passed through the theatre.
"I didn't want to let a single one of you go," he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Because I wanted to witness just how much more you would bloom… how breathtaking you would become."
He lifted a hand quickly, laughing under his breath. "I hope that doesn't sound creepy. And if it does—my apologies."
That small moment of levity cracked the tension just enough for soft laughter to bubble up, easing tight shoulders and shaky breaths.
Then—
Foca straightened.
"And so," he said, voice firm now, unmistakably decisive, "I would like to announce that Bread Music is no longer pursuing a single group."
The lights snapped brighter.
"We will be pushing this project further."
The music surged.
"Much further."
A beat.
"We are creating a mega global group."
The theatre exploded.
Gasps. Whispers. Hands flying to mouths. The internet, somewhere far away, was already on life support.
"A what?" someone in the audience muttered aloud.
"To clear the confusion," Foca said calmly, gesturing toward the massive LED screen behind him, "allow me to explain."
The screen flickered to life.
A bold, minimalistic logo appeared—LEAVEN—etched in matte black and molten gold. Clean lines. Sharp edges. Power without excess. The name alone carried weight.
"This," Foca said, "is LEAVEN."
Then—
Five branches extended outward from the central logo, blooming across the screen like constellations being drawn into existence. Each branch ended in a distinct silhouette.
"LEAVEN will consist of multiple sub-groups."
The audience leaned forward as one.
"The first," Foca continued, a touch of fond nostalgia in his tone, "is named after a bread roll I grew up eating every morning for breakfast."
The logo lit up.
Pandesal Fac7ory.
A playful, quirky design appeared—earthy, warm tones, the group name literally sandwiched between a golden pandesal. Familiar. Comforting. Full of heart.
"The second group," Foca went on, "is inspired by a bread beloved across Korea. Simple, soft, fluffy—yet finished with a crispy, buttery, salty crust."
The next logo illuminated.
Salt x Bread.
Elegant. Minimal. Thin typography with perfect curves and clean circles. Effortlessly stylish, like quiet confidence that didn't need to shout.
"The third," he said, "draws inspiration from a Japanese sweet bread often seen in anime. Soft and fluffy inside… with a crunchy, sugary cookie crust."
The screen shifted again.
MelonBun House.
The logo burst with anime flair—half shōjo softness, half shōnen edge. Sweet and fierce in perfect balance.
"The fourth group," Foca continued, "comes from a bread that defines afternoon tea. Dense. Rich. Capable of being either sweet or savory."
The logo fanned open like a deck of cards.
4 of Scones.
A playing-card aesthetic—four cards spread wide, each symbol replaced with a beautifully designed scone. Classic. Strategic. A little dangerous.
"And lastly," Foca said, letting the moment stretch, "a group inspired by a cookie."
The room went silent.
"Dense. Chewy. Moist. Rough around the edges—but brilliant."
The final logo appeared.
Jeweled Macaroons.
Elegant, luxurious. Jewel-toned macaroons nestled inside a velvet-lined jewelry box instead of a bakery carton. Decadent. Refined. Worth treasuring.
The screen held all five logos, glowing beneath the LEAVEN name.
The theatre buzzed like it had just been struck by lightning.
This wasn't just a debut.
This was a legacy being built in real time.
"Now, all these sub-groups have their own identities—each with its own ecosystem, its own sound, its own color," Foca explained. "They can function independently. But all of them coexist harmoniously under one banner."
He paused, letting it sink in.
"LEAVEN."
As the concept finally clicked, the live audience erupted. The energy in the venue spiked, and online, the comments came flooding in faster than anyone could read.
@RokuRoku: Yo! This is such a fresh take on pop groups. Just imagining all the possibilities already has me hyped!
→ @Minasoo: Wait, y'all actually understood that?? I'm still stuck on the whole mega group thing—don't even get me started on the fact that they're all named after bread. Does Foca just really love carbs or what?
→→ @QueenOfEngland: Or he's extremely loyal to his branding. Which, honestly, is smart as hell. Branding is everything if you want people to remember you.
→→→ @Malory: TF?! It's cringe. A toddler could've come up with a better name than that.
→→→→ @alpaca: To be fair, there are companies with silly-ass names that are still thriving today—Mango TV, Melon Charts, just saying. This isn't that different.
Back on stage, Foca watched the crowd buzz with satisfaction.
"Now," he continued, "each sub-group already has a fixed number of members."
He turned toward the audience, eyebrow lifting just slightly.
"So tell me—would you like to meet them?"
The response was immediate. A thunderous wave of cheers crashed through the venue, loud enough to make the theater vibrate.
Foca nodded, smiling as if he'd expected nothing less.
"Very well," he said. "Then please—bear witness to the trainees who will be taking their next step forward."
The lights dimmed.
"Tonight, their new journey begins… as they make their debut."