The notebook didn't look like much.
Black leather. Edges frayed. A page torn out near the back.
But the second I opened it, I knew this wasn't a diary.
It was a weapon.
Killian and I sat cross-legged on the dusty floor of Room B13.
The only light came from his phone screen, and even that felt too bright — like we were reading something that was never meant to see the light at all.
The first page was simple. Handwritten. Bold strokes.
"If you're reading this, they didn't erase me fast enough."
– Lila
My breath caught.
Killian said nothing.
We kept reading.
The entries weren't emotional. They were calculated. Precise.
A list of names.
Dates.
Behavior patterns.
Interactions.
Lila had documented everything.
"Camille received a new keycard after Marrin visited her. Room 432 – locked storage."
"Soren lied about when I entered the PRAXIS test loop. Found timestamp in his calendar."
"Cassandra Vale visits once a month. Disguised as donor relations."
And then this:
"They think I'm too volatile to organize. That's their mistake. Because while they've been studying me... I've been studying THEM."
My heart thudded in my chest.
She had figured it all out.
Alone.
Terrified.
But unstoppable.
Killian turned the page.
There, in red pen — like blood or warning — were four lines:
"Every system has a blind spot."
"Every lie leaves a fingerprint."
"Every crown can be broken."
"But first... light the match."
Below it, a code:
MATCH: RGN-0714-VI
We stared at it.
A string of letters and numbers.
Killian's voice was hoarse. "What does it mean?"
I scanned the last few pages — more names, more site locations — and then, at the very back, I found it.
A folded slip of paper tucked into the spine.
It read:
"RGN = Regional Grid Node.
0714-VI = Blackmere's power archive hub.
MATCH = Manual Access Trigger Command Hack."
My stomach dropped.
"She's not talking about a metaphor," I whispered.
"She's talking about the literal power grid."
Killian's eyes widened.
"You mean—"
"She found a way to shut everything down."
We returned to the clock tower with Lila's notebook.
I laid it out on the table between our gear — phones buzzing, files uploading, maps scattered.
This was it.
The endgame.
Killian rubbed a hand through his hair. "If we cut the archive hub, we disable the Crown's surveillance."
"Every camera. Every sensor. Every lock."
"They'll go blind."
"And then we expose Level Zero in daylight."
He stared at me.
"I don't know if we'll survive that."
I swallowed hard.
"I don't want to survive it," I said. "I want to win."
The next 24 hours were a blur of planning.
We used burner numbers to text allies.
Students, staff, even a journalist who had been following the story since the first leak.
Jules sent coordinates — proof that she was moving, hiding, fighting.
"Tell Lila thank you," she wrote. "She left us more than rage. She left us a blueprint."
The final phase of The Crownless Project would begin with a campus-wide blackout.
No lights.
No files.
No digital access.
Only one message would play.
Lila's voice.
Killian and I moved just after 2AM.
Wearing faculty access cards we'd cloned.
Carrying Lila's code.
We entered the archive hub through the back generator room.
It smelled like oil and static.
We didn't speak.
We just walked into the dark like we belonged to it.
Inside the control room, a single screen waited.
Killian inserted the drive.
I opened the notebook.
Typed the MATCH code into the prompt.
RGN-0714-VI
The screen blinked.
A warning flashed red.
"This will disable CrownSight protocol, faculty surveillance grid, and active biometric access systems. Proceed?"
I clicked YES.
The power died instantly.
The room blacked out.
Outside, the grid buzzed… then fell silent.
Campus lights dimmed.
Doors unlocked.
Cameras cut.
And then—
Lila's voice filled the emergency intercom system:
"I didn't fall. They pushed me."
Students woke to the sound.
Faculty ran into the halls.
Sirens wailed — not because someone broke the law, but because someone broke the lie.
For the first time in decades…
Blackmere couldn't see us.
We didn't stay.
Killian and I fled through the maintenance tunnels under the old music hall.
Climbed through the boiler hatch.
And emerged onto a quad filled with chaos.
And hope.
Students huddled in clusters.
Phones out. Flashlights on.
Chanting one word:
"Crownless."
But then—
Gunshots.
Three pops. Sharp. Close.
Crowd scattered. Screams echoed.
I grabbed Killian's arm and dragged him behind the stone wall.
Someone was firing into the dark.
Not to kill.
To scatter.
Then I saw them.
Black coats. No campus patches. Military posture.
Alecta's private guards.
They weren't playing defense anymore.
They were here.
I gritted my teeth.
"You wanted to see me fall?" I whispered.
"I'm still standing."
[Creator's Note – 😭🔥👑💥]
THE BLACKOUT. THE SPEECH. THE GUNSHOTS. THE CROWNLESS RISE.
I HAVE CHILLS. ACTUAL CHILLS.
Zara just unplugged the regime.
Lila's notebook? A full blueprint for rebellion.
And the Crown? They're finally on the ground — but they brought guns.
Killian. Jules. Halvers. The student body.
This isn't just resistance anymore.
This is a revolution.
Chapter 18 is what happens when silence fights back.
And somebody will bleed.
xoxo
–Smith_10