The night Empire High opened its underbelly, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The wards across the school hummed low, the same tone a dying star might make if it were forced to keep shining. The walls sweated cold mist. Statues of old Headmasters wept shadow from their stone eyes. Even the wind felt wrong—too heavy, too aware.
Seraphina led the way.
The shard in her palm burned with quiet fury, its light pulsing through her veins. The map beneath her skin had redrawn itself again, its glowing lines converging into a single spiral leading deep beneath the campus. And though no one said it aloud, they all knew: the Vault had chosen this place.
"Are we sure this is the entrance?" Tobias muttered, squinting at the ancient stairwell hidden behind the east courtyard's cracked fountain. The fountain's water had long dried, leaving behind black veins of moss that pulsed faintly, like veins filled with shadow.
"This is where the map leads," Mei said, voice tight as she traced the runes along the stone. "And the wards here are… ancient. Older than Empire High itself. They were never meant to be touched."
"Then maybe we shouldn't," Kaelina whispered. Her voice trembled as she looked into the darkness yawning below. "It feels wrong."
"Everything about this feels wrong," Riv said, drawing her blade. The weapon's silver edge flickered with faint light, reacting to the ambient magic. "Doesn't mean we stop."
Seraphina stepped forward before doubt could root deeper. The runes along the stairwell flared at her approach, reacting to the glow beneath her skin. Lines of gold and black unfurled across the stone, tracing her path like veins awakening after centuries of sleep.
Elijah came up beside her, silent, his presence a gravity that steadied her in a way nothing else could. He didn't speak, but his gaze met hers for a long moment, and in it she found something unspoken: we go together.
The others followed.
One by one, the Circle of Five descended into the dark.
The air grew colder, the light dimmer, until even their breaths became visible mist. The further they went, the more the walls seemed to shift—carved names flickering between languages, runes rearranging as if alive. The descent felt endless, time folding in on itself.
"How deep does this go?" Tobias asked finally, voice hushed.
"Farther than it should," Mei murmured, running her fingers along a glowing sigil. "We're walking through something's memory."
Seraphina didn't ask whose. She already knew the answer.
After what felt like hours, the stairwell spilled into a vast underground hall. The ceiling arched high above them, carved from stone so dark it drank light. Rows of columns stood like silent sentinels, each etched with runes that shifted between gold and crimson. At the center of the hall, a circular seal pulsed with faint light—the same pattern that now marked Seraphina's arm.
"This is it," she whispered.
"The Sanctum of Echoes," Mei said softly, eyes wide. "It was said to mirror what lies beneath a person's truth. Every step, every word, every breath—it listens."
Tobias gave a strained laugh. "Great. A haunted mirror room. Love that."
"Stay focused," Elijah said, his voice calm but edged. He stepped beside Seraphina, scanning the runes around the seal. "It's testing us already."
"How do you know?" Riv asked.
"Because," he said, "it's whispering."
At first, Seraphina thought he was wrong—until she heard it too. Faint, like wind through a graveyard, voices brushed past her ears. Not words, not yet. Just the rhythm of something that knew them.
The moment she stepped closer to the seal, the whispers sharpened.
Seraphina Cole.
The voice was her mother's.
Her chest constricted. "No…"
Elijah's hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could move. "It's not real," he said, low and steady. "Remember the Illusion Sanctum. This one wants your truth, not your heart."
She forced herself to breathe. The shard in her hand pulsed again, and the seal beneath them shuddered, splitting open with a thunderous crack.
Light poured out.
The ground gave way.
They fell.
Seraphina hit cold stone hard enough to drive the air from her lungs. When her vision cleared, she realized they were in a different chamber entirely—a vast circular arena with mirrored walls that shimmered like liquid glass. The air smelled faintly of rain and memory.
"Elijah?"
"I'm here." His voice came from her right. She turned and saw him standing, blade drawn, eyes sharp.
The others were scattered around the chamber, each facing a reflection of themselves. But these reflections didn't mimic movement—they moved on their own.
Kaelina's reflection smiled at her with her brother's eyes. Riv's reflection turned its sword on her. Tobias's double held his flask like a weapon, mocking him with a grin too cruel to be his own.
And Seraphina's reflection… didn't move at all. It just stared.
Then it spoke. "You can't keep them alive."
The words hit like a punch.
Her reflection stepped forward, the same face, same fire, but colder—void of compassion. "You know it's true. Every time you lead, someone breaks. Someone falls. You'll destroy this Circle just like you destroyed your family."
Seraphina's chest tightened. "You're not real."
The reflection tilted its head. "Neither were they. And yet you still wake up screaming their names."
"Enough." Elijah's voice boomed through the chamber, slicing through the echoes. His reflection mirrored him perfectly—expressionless, precise, terrifying. "These aren't truths," he said. "They're traps."
Mei's voice cut through from across the hall. "No—they are truths. Twisted, but real. The Vault is showing us the parts of ourselves we refuse to face."
Tobias laughed bitterly. "Oh, perfect. Self-therapy from a demonic library."
The reflections began to multiply. Every lie, every secret, every shadow—projected and given voice. The room became a chorus of confession and denial.
Seraphina felt her knees tremble. Her reflection stepped closer, eyes glowing faintly gold. "You want him," it whispered, flicking its gaze toward Elijah. "But you'll destroy him, too."
Her breath caught.
"Stop," she said, voice shaking. "Stop it."
Elijah moved instantly, stepping between her and the reflection. The moment he did, his own reflection shifted—its expression softening into something unreadable. "You think you can protect her?" it said quietly. "You're the weapon meant to kill her, Elijah. You were made for it."
Seraphina froze.
Elijah didn't move. His jaw flexed once, but his eyes didn't leave the reflection. "That's not my truth," he said, voice steady.
The reflection smiled. "No. It's the one you're too afraid to admit."
The air pulsed. The shard burned so hot in Seraphina's hand that she screamed, light spilling from her palm. The runes on the walls flared crimson, the entire chamber trembling as if the Vault itself were listening.
"Seraphina!" Mei shouted. "The shard—it's reacting to your heartbeat! You have to control it!"
"I'm trying—"
The reflection lunged.
But instead of striking her, it struck Elijah. He caught the blow, but the impact flung him backward across the chamber. The walls flashed white. The reflections screamed, warping into tendrils of light that wrapped around each member of the Circle.
Seraphina's vision blurred. She reached toward Elijah, but the tendrils pulled at her, whispering her name like a hundred voices. You can't save him. You never could.
She fell to her knees, clawing against the pull. "No," she gasped. "Not again."
The shard pulsed one last time—and then shattered in her hand.
Light exploded through the chamber, blinding and alive. The reflections screamed, fracturing like glass, and the walls rippled outward, folding in on themselves until everything—light, sound, breath—collapsed into stillness.
When Seraphina opened her eyes, she was lying on cold stone again. The chamber was gone. The mirrors, the reflections—all of it vanished. Only the Circle remained, sprawled and groaning around her.
The shard was gone, but the mark beneath her skin now blazed brighter, more intricate than ever. The Vault hadn't been destroyed. It had fed.
"Elijah?" she whispered.
He stirred beside her, blood streaked down his temple but his eyes steady. "Still here," he said softly.
She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Their eyes met, something raw and wordless passing between them.
Tobias groaned somewhere behind them. "Tell me that's the worst of it."
Mei's hollow laugh answered him. "It never is."
As the others gathered themselves, Seraphina looked up. The ceiling above them had changed. It now bore a single new rune—a circle within a spiral, carved deep into the stone.
Beneath Empire High, the Vault had awakened a little more.
And this time, it was hungry.