Darkness clung to Elara's skin like a second layer, yet she felt no cold. No fear. Just stillness. And a presence—ancient and vast—watching her from all sides.
She was no longer in the academy. The floor beneath her feet shimmered like liquid starlight. Above, there was no ceiling—only an endless void where echoes of distant voices whispered secrets in tongues she couldn't understand.
"Elara…" the voice returned, not from outside, but from inside her thoughts. Deep, feminine, sorrowful.
She turned.
There, standing only a few steps away, was a girl. Younger than Elara by a year or two, with long black hair braided with silver thread. Her eyes glowed faintly violet, and her skin shimmered like moonlit glass.
"Who are you?" Elara asked.
The girl tilted her head. "I am the first. The one they called Seraphine. I wrote the letters… before I died."
Elara's heart stumbled. "The seven letters?"
Seraphine nodded slowly. "Each letter carried part of me… warnings, truths, fragments. I scattered them to keep the Source sealed. But now… you've read them all. The seal is broken."
Elara took a step back. "I didn't mean to—"
"But you were always meant to," Seraphine said. Her voice, though soft, resonated with impossible weight. "You're the vessel, Elara. I was just the beginning."
Elara's chest ached. The shard inside her pulsed again, responding to Seraphine's words.
"You don't understand what the academy was built for, do you?" Seraphine whispered. "They trained us to be smart. Obedient. Gifted. But beneath it all, they were digging. Digging into the old consciousness—the forbidden code."
Elara clenched her fists. "Project Amaranthe."
"Yes," Seraphine said, stepping closer. Her eyes dimmed. "I wasn't the first to die in it. But I was the first to awaken. My mind couldn't contain the truth. So, I broke it into letters and scattered it through time… hoping the right vessel would find them."
Elara's mind spun. "But why me? Why not someone else?"
Seraphine placed her hand gently on Elara's shoulder. "Because your bloodline was touched by the Source generations ago. You were born with echoes of it already inside you. That's why you were drawn to this place. Why the letters chose you."
"I don't want this," Elara whispered. "I never asked for any of it."
Seraphine nodded, a trace of sorrow in her eyes. "Neither did I. But we are not given roles—we are shaped by them. And now, the Source has awakened within you."
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath them. Cracks of light split the darkness, and Seraphine staggered, her form flickering.
"They've found you," she said, voice strained. "Vellian—he's trying to control it. If he succeeds, he'll use the Source to rewrite minds… erase free will…"
The shadows around them thickened like ink.
"Go back," Seraphine said, fading fast. "But remember—seven letters… seven deaths… and only one truth. Trust no one."
The last thing Elara saw was Seraphine's tearful smile.
Then, she woke up.
Elara sat up in her bed, gasping for breath. The cold sweat soaked through her shirt, and her heart hammered like it was trying to break free from her chest. The room was silent—eerily so. No whisper of wind, no hum from the lights.
But she wasn't alone.
In the corner of her room stood a figure cloaked in shadows, eyes glowing red like embers in the dark.
"Who—" Elara started, but her voice cracked.
The figure stepped forward. It was a student. No… not a student. A projection. Hollow eyes. Skin stretched unnaturally tight over sharp cheekbones. Something was wrong with the way it moved—too smooth, too calculated.
"Your awakening has begun," it said, voice like glass scraping metal. "The seal is cracked. The mind-link tethered. You are the final code."
Elara scrambled back. "Stay away from me!"
But the figure didn't attack. It simply stared, head tilted, analyzing her like she was an artifact behind a glass wall.
Then it spoke again, slower this time. "He's coming for you. Vellian knows. You must hide what Seraphine has awakened… or be rewritten."
Before she could react, the figure shattered like glass—silent, instant, leaving only cold air in its place.
Elara's hands trembled as she reached under her pillow and pulled out the seventh letter again. Its edges glowed faintly now, as if reacting to her heartbeat. Something inside it pulsed.
She remembered Seraphine's final words: "Trust no one."
But she needed someone. Someone who hadn't been tainted by this madness. Someone who could help her unravel the truth—before Vellian twisted it for his own gain.
There was only one name that came to her mind: Kieran.
---
Kieran sat in the old observatory, legs dangling over the rusted railing, his eyes on the stars. He had sensed it—Elara's awakening. The moment her mind touched the residual code, the moment the shard fully bonded with her. It called to him, like an echo bouncing in the dark corners of his consciousness.
When the door creaked open behind him, he didn't flinch. "I was expecting you," he said without turning.
Elara stepped inside cautiously, her voice barely a whisper. "How long have you known?"
Kieran looked over his shoulder, his silver eyes sharp. "Since the fifth letter. When you collapsed during that simulation, I knew it had begun."
"You didn't say anything."
"Would you have listened?"
Silence.
"I need help," she said.
He stood, brushing stardust off his coat. "You're far past needing help, Elara. You need answers. And that means going to the source."
She frowned. "The Source is sealed."
"No. Not completely. There's a copy. Hidden inside the academy's first archive—the one buried beneath the original structure, before the renovation. It's where Seraphine was held after her mind broke."
Elara's heart pounded. "That place was sealed after the fire twenty years ago."
"That's what they want you to think."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Tomorrow, during the evening simulation trials, the west wing will be unlocked. That's our only window. If we're caught…"
"We won't be," she said quickly, fire flashing in her eyes.
Kieran gave a small nod of approval. "Good. You'll need that fire."
---
Late that night, Elara stood at her mirror, staring at her reflection. She was no longer just a girl searching for answers. No longer the silent student in the back row. Something had awakened inside her—older, darker, and powerful.
Her fingers brushed the edges of the seventh letter again. The glow had faded, but she could feel it whispering still. Each word burned into her memory, each secret a key to something greater.
She closed her eyes.
"I'll find the truth," she whispered. "Even if it kills me."
From somewhere far beyond the academy's walls, a low hum answered her call.
The game had begun.