The curtains are torn. The audience is gone. And the Midhouse bleeds in silence.
Ayoka is no longer just waking up—she's rising. She moved like prey for too long, but her silence was always a strategy. Now, something ancient and dangerous is stirring inside her. Not pretty. Not safe. And not asking for permission. This is not a rebirth. This is a reckoning.
Viktor and Sabine have split like glass under heat. They were always two halves of the same haunted story—mirror and shadow, shame and control—but the Mirror Game ended that illusion. Sabine saw what her family built. Viktor saw what he became. Now they can't even look each other in the eye.
Genevieve? Gone. Peeled, punished, and humiliated. Beauty turned bitter. Power taken from her by someone who knew exactly where it hurt. Whatever's left of her—if anything—has teeth now.
And through the smoke, the door creaks open.
Sasha is free. He's shed whatever chains kept him watching from the wings. He's not arriving as a brother. He's arriving as a force—grinning, blood-warmed, with stories Viktor hoped would stay buried.
But he's not alone.
Others are stepping forward. Side characters no one thought mattered. Names dropped in passing. Hands once hidden behind curtains. The stage is no longer safe. The cast is no longer fixed.
The Midhouse is over.
Now begins the arc where everyone forgotten finally gets their turn.