It began again on a quiet Tuesday.
Miles away from Greyhollow, in a small apartment in Newbridge City, 17-year-old Leah Wren came home from school, tossed her backpack onto the couch, and found an envelope sitting on her desk.
No stamp.
No return address.
Just her name written in dark ink:
LEAH.
She frowned.
Her parents weren't home. Her brother was still at basketball practice. No one should've been in her room.
She turned the envelope over.
The wax seal bore a symbol she didn't recognize:
An eye with seven tears beneath it.
---
She opened it.
Inside was a single piece of paper, aged and yellowing.
She read it aloud, her voice soft in the empty room:
> "To the next reader:
The story does not begin with you.
But it may end with you.
You have been chosen.
Not because you are brave.
Not because you are strong.
But because you are just curious enough.
Seven keys.
Seven seals.
One door.
Do not try to escape.
The only way out… is through."
Leah stared at the letter.
She laughed nervously. "Is this… a prank?"
But even as she said it, the air in her room changed.
Something shifted.
Like the walls had leaned closer.
Like the shadows had exhaled.
And in the corner of her eye—just for a second—she saw someone standing by her mirror.
---
That night, she had the first dream.
A house, burned to the foundation.
A man at a desk, writing in blood.
A girl, whispering from beneath the earth.
A letter that bled when opened.
And a voice that said:
> "Welcome to the Archive."
She woke with a gasp.
The letter still sat on her desk.
Only now, it had another line written beneath the message:
> "Go to Greyhollow. Find the ashes."
---
She didn't tell her parents.
She didn't tell anyone.
But two days later, Leah packed a bag and boarded a bus to the edge of town. She didn't know what she expected to find. A joke? An abandoned building? A hidden camera show?
What she found instead… was the field.
A black patch of land where nothing grew.
No plants.
No insects.
Just a circle of ash.
In the center stood a mailbox.
Burnt. Rusted. And still warm.
Inside, another envelope.
This one read:
"Key One."
---
The letter inside was different.
It wasn't printed.
It was written in thick red ink, in sharp strokes that hurt to look at for too long.
> "You have entered the story.
The first key lies in memory.
Go back.
Return to the day your brother drowned.
Remember what you forgot."
Leah's breath caught.
Her brother hadn't drowned.
He was alive. Playing basketball. Texting her memes an hour ago.
But as she held the letter, something in her mind cracked.
A scream in the water.
A boy's hand, slipping beneath the surface.
Her own voice shouting his name—
"JAY!"
She dropped the letter and fell to her knees, gasping.
And from the trees beyond the ash field… something clapped.
Slow. Mocking.
A figure stepped out.
Wearing a mask made of bark and paper.
The Archivist.
---
Leah ran.
She didn't look back.
But she felt his presence chasing her—not footsteps, not breath, but story.
Like the air behind her was rewriting itself.
She made it back to the road, barely catching the last evening bus back to the city.
She didn't speak.
Didn't blink.
Didn't sleep that night.
But when she woke the next morning, there was another envelope on her desk.
No stamp.
No address.
Just one word:
> "Key Two."
---
Meanwhile…
Back in Greyhollow…
Elior sat alone in the ruins of the library.
The others were scattered—trying to rebuild, or forget.
He hadn't touched a pen in months.
But that morning, he received a package.
Inside was a photo of Leah.
And a note:
> "She has begun.
She will need you.
You remember the way."
Below it was the symbol:
The eye. Seven tears.
Elior closed his eyes.
And whispered:
> "Not again…"