The last shards of the mirror had barely finished dissolving when silence claimed the chamber. Dust hung in the air like starlight, catching on blood, sweat, and the raw tremor in every breath. The Circle stood in a loose ring, weapons half-lowered, their bodies battered but their eyes… their eyes told the truth.
No one came out untouched.
Kaelina leaned against a fractured pillar, a streak of blood drying at her temple. Her twin's laughter—too cruel, too honest—seemed to cling to her skin. Tobias sat cross-legged on the stone, shoulders heaving, staring at his hands as if afraid they still belonged to the version of him that had wanted nothing but ruin. Riv gripped her braid so tightly her knuckles whitened, fury masking the crack in her voice when she finally said, "That wasn't me."
No one contradicted her.
Seraphina stood apart, crystal shard pulsing faintly in her hands. The thing was warm, alive, as if aware of the blood it had cost them. She should have felt triumph—they had survived another sanctum, claimed another key. But the victory felt jagged.
Her reflection's words still hissed in her ears. You crave the fire. You crave me.
The Vault was clever. It didn't invent lies. It sharpened the truths they buried until they could bleed on them.
Elijah's voice cut through the hush, low and steady. "We need to move. The Vault won't keep still now that we've broken a sanctum."
For once, no one argued. They were too shaken, too aware of the tremor running through the very stones.
But as they filed out of the chamber, Sera knew it wasn't the Vault that scared them most. It was themselves.
The observatory dome was still cracked with stormlight when they reconvened. Lightning licked across the glass, illuminating their faces in harsh fragments.
"We can't keep doing this," Kaelina snapped, pacing so fast her boots echoed. "Every trial isn't just some monster—now it's us. What's next, the Vault puppets our families? Our worst memories?"
"Wouldn't put it past it," Tobias muttered, though his usual grin had no bite.
Riv slammed her palms on the table. "Focus. We're unraveling. That's what it wants."
"It's working," Mei said softly. Her gaze was hollow, fixed on the maps of the wards that flickered like dying stars. "The Vault doesn't need to break us physically. It just needs us to stop trusting each other."
Sera felt the sting in those words. Because Mei was right. Already she could feel the unease, the sideways glances. Who trusted who, when they had seen what their reflections hungered for?
Finally, Elijah spoke. His tone was steel, but quiet, controlled. "The Vault is escalation. It adapts to what we fear. That means the next sanctum will be worse. Which means this—" his gaze swept across them "—isn't optional anymore. Either we stand as one, or the Vault will kill us."
A silence pressed after his words. Heavy, choking.
Sera wanted to speak, to pull them back into orbit, but she felt the fissures like cracks in glass. Even her own hands trembled faintly, the map glowing too bright—as if her magic knew something she didn't.
It wasn't just the Vault testing them. It was fate itself.
Later, when the Circle had dispersed to their dorms—some to rest, some to brood—Sera lingered in the East Wing. The air was heavy with storm-scent, the walls whispering faint vibrations only she could hear.
She wasn't surprised when Elijah appeared in the shadows.
"You always follow me," she said, but her voice lacked venom.
His eyes, dark as midnight storms, caught the flicker of wardlight. "You never walk lightly. The Vault listens when you do."
They stood across from each other, the silence more dangerous than any weapon.
Finally, she broke. "When my reflection spoke… part of me agreed with it." The admission burned like acid. "I do crave it. The fire. The destruction. The weight of power when it bends to me."
Elijah stepped closer, slow and measured, until the stormlight carved sharp lines across his face. His voice was rough at the edges. "That hunger doesn't make you her. It makes you human. Power is temptation. The difference is whether you bend to it or wield it."
Her throat worked, heart hammering. "And if I fail?"
For the first time, his composure cracked. His hand lifted as though to touch her—hesitated, then dropped. "Then I'll drag you back myself."
The words weren't threat. They were vow.
Something between them snapped taut, the pull undeniable. His nearness, the storm humming in his voice, the heat of his conviction—it all clawed at the restraint she had wrapped around herself.
Her lips parted. Just a breath. Just enough that if he leaned forward—
But he didn't. He froze, jaw clenched, as if the distance was the only thing keeping them alive.
"Not yet," he whispered, echoing the words that had become a curse between them.
And then he stepped back into shadow, leaving her gasping like she'd nearly drowned.
The tremor came hours later.
Sera was still awake when the entire East Wing quivered, books sliding from shelves, lamps sputtering. The wards flared gold before guttering like dying embers.
By the time she reached the observatory, the rest of the Circle was already there. Mei's face was ashen. "The Vault just shifted. It's opening another sanctum."
Riv cursed. "This soon? We barely survived the last one!"
Sera raised her arms. The glowing map burned hotter than ever, the lines reweaving themselves until a new convergence point emerged. She felt the magic twist her veins, demanding, relentless.
Her stomach turned cold.
"The sanctum…" she whispered, "…it's not underground this time. It's in the heart of the school."
Lightning tore the sky open, thunder rattling the dome.
"The Great Hall," Elijah finished, voice grim.
The place where every oath was sworn. Where every initiation had bound blood and bone.
Kaelina swore. "Of course. Because why not taint the one place that's supposed to keep us safe?"
The wards flickered again. The Vault was done waiting.
When they reached the Great Hall, the air was already wrong. The massive doors creaked as they pushed inside, revealing the familiar vaulted ceiling, the banners of the Houses swaying gently overhead.
But the floor—
The mosaic of stars that had always gleamed at the center now rippled like water. Sigils crawled across it, glowing faint silver, rearranging into an endless knot that spun faster and faster.
"It's a seal," Mei breathed. "A sanctum disguised as tradition. It's been here the whole time."
The knot tightened, light flaring until the room itself warped. Walls stretched, banners melted into shadow, and the stars underfoot pulled them down—down into a chamber that had been hiding beneath the hall for centuries.
The Circle landed hard on stone.
This chamber was different. The air was sweet, cloying, heavy with enchantment. Illusions shimmered on the walls—families, friends, laughter, lives they'd left behind.
Kaelina's knees buckled as her brother's face appeared in the smoke. Tobias staggered back when his mother's voice whispered his name.
Sera's heart slammed when she saw—no, felt—her parents. Whole. Alive. Smiling as if the fire had never touched them.
"No," Elijah snapped, shadows lashing out to slice through the images. "It's lies. All of it. Don't listen."
But the Vault knew their weaknesses now. It wasn't sending monsters. It was offering what they wanted most.
The Sanctum of Illusion had begun.
And Seraphina feared that this time, breaking it might cost more than their strength. It might cost their will to keep fighting.