I stared at the photo for nearly an hour.
A crown made of eyes.
Surrounding a single figure — faceless, seated, cloaked in power.
Level Zero.
The people in the room with that chair didn't speak in meetings. They didn't send emails. They issued orders through proxies. They built PRAXIS, controlled the faculty, erased students.
And now I'd forced them into the light.
For the first time, they saw me.
And that meant they'd try to destroy me.
From: Unknown
Subject: You won't make it to graduation.
That was the entire message.
No signature. No threat needed.
Just a fact.
They thought they were ending the story.
But what they didn't understand was—
This story was never theirs to end.
By morning, #ProjectPRAXIS was trending on national news.
The gala footage had been downloaded 1.3 million times.
Killian's face. My sister's last words. The patient files. All of it.
One headline read:
"Whistleblower Students Expose Elite Psychological Testing Ring at Blackmere University."
Another:
"'She Didn't Fall' — Sister of Dead Student Leads Rebellion Against Private Intelligence Network."
They called me a whistleblower.
A survivor.
A rebel.
They didn't know the half of it.
Professor Halvers messaged me one line:
"They're going to cut you off from everything. That's how they retaliate."
He was right.
By noon, my student portal was disabled.
By 2PM, my dorm access card was revoked.
By 4PM, campus police arrived at my room with a "temporary relocation" order.
I didn't let them in.
Didn't pack.
Didn't blink.
I just looked them in the eye and said:
"Tell them to come themselves."
That night, Killian and I broke into the clock tower.
The one students always said was sealed for maintenance.
It wasn't.
It was old. Cold. Cracked from years of silence.
We dragged a folding table inside.
Two laptops.
Three phones.
One burner Wi-Fi router, courtesy of Jules, now officially off-grid but very much alive.
We turned the tower into our war room.
And from there — we started fighting back.
We called it The Crownless Project.
A digital leak site. Anonymous uploads. Verified evidence.
We posted everything Level Zero tried to hide.
Secret faculty contracts
Audio recordings of Marrin
Notes from "emotional manipulation" experiments
A partial transcript of a meeting between Soren and a private military contractor
Within hours, three more universities were tagged.
Alecta didn't just infect Blackmere.
It was a network.
We weren't fighting one institution.
We were fighting a system of silence.
But then came the broadcast.
The one we didn't expect.
Tuesday morning. 9:01 AM.
Every screen on campus lit up — from lecture halls to dorm TVs to outdoor digital boards.
A single face.
Cassandra Vale.
Killian's mother.
Sitting in that chair.
Behind her?
The crown of eyes.
"This message is for Zara Monroe. And all those who believe the world is fair just because they are loud."
"You've disrupted a program that has saved thousands of lives. Prevented violence. Identified mental instability before it turned lethal."
"And now?"
"You've risked everything. For what?"
"Your sister's name?"
"She wasn't a hero."
"She was unstable. Dangerous. Non-compliant. She was meant to be removed."
My fist curled around the edge of the table.
Killian stood still. Rigid. Breathing like he might break.
"You're not safe anymore, Zara."
"We will not erase you."
"We will watch you fall."
Then the screen went dark.
Silence.
Then Killian smashed the laptop against the wall.
Later, we sat on the tower floor in total silence.
"I'm going to end her," I said.
He didn't answer.
But his hand slid into mine.
Tight.
Unshaking.
That night, I received a call from a restricted number.
Jules.
She sounded out of breath. Like she was on the move.
"You have to go to Room B13 in the Humanities basement. There's something there. Something Lila left."
"What is it?"
"A notebook. They couldn't find it. She hid it behind the vent cover."
"Why now?"
"Because Cassandra's not playing anymore," Jules whispered. "She's hunting now. You have days. Maybe less."
Killian and I reached Room B13 at midnight.
The building was dark, sealed off "for renovations."
We broke in through a second-floor window and crept down the stairs.
I found the vent cover easily.
Removed the screws.
Inside?
A slim black notebook.
On the first page:
"This is not a diary. It's a detonator." – Lila
[Creator's Note – THE DETONATOR 😭🔥]
I REPEAT:
LILA.
LEFT.
A.
FREAKING.
DETONATOR.
AND CASSANDRA?? Broadcast her villain origin story LIVE while calling our girl dangerous?? 😭💀
Zara & Killian are now FULLY activated — Crownless Project is LIVE.
And Jules is off-grid but still fighting.
WE 👏 ARE 👏 IN 👏 THE 👏 REVOLUTION 👏 ARC 👑
Drop your chaos, theories, and fan-casts 😮💨
Chapter 17? It's Lila's notebook. Her last secret. And it's going to BURN.
xoxo
–Smith_10