The rain had not stopped since the moment they fled the archives. It drummed on the windows of the half-forgotten safehouse tucked between decaying warehouses at the far edge of the city. Shadows curled in every corner, heavy with dust and abandonment. A single lamp flickered on the table, casting Leonard's features into shifting chiaroscuro, as if he were wearing masks layered atop one another. Emily sat opposite him, her hand still clenched around the wrinkled document bearing his youthful signature, her knuckles white with strain.
Silence pressed down on them like a storm cloud. Neither spoke at first. The only sounds were the faint hum of the lamp and the relentless rain outside. Finally, Emily broke the silence, her voice sharp but trembling.
"Leonard," she said, holding the document higher between them, "do you want to tell me how your name ended up on an archival file signed twenty years ago? Before you were even… you?"
Leonard's gaze flickered. His jaw tightened. For a moment, he looked as though he might confess everything, but instead he dragged in a breath and leaned back, his hands gripping the chair's arms. "Emily, I don't know what that is. I don't know how it exists."
"Don't lie to me," she snapped, her eyes burning with betrayal. "Every time we peel back a layer, your shadow is already there—your handwriting, your name, your mark. You expect me to believe this is coincidence?"
The words stabbed him deeper than he let her see. He lowered his gaze, shadows cutting across his cheekbones. "I never asked you to believe blindly," he murmured. "But there are things buried in LU's history even I wasn't prepared to see."
"Things like Orchid?" Her voice cracked on the word. "The codename that keeps appearing beside you? Tell me, Leonard. What are you hiding?"
The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls pressing closer. Leonard rose abruptly, pacing to the window where rain streaked down like endless tears. He pressed a hand against the cold glass. "Orchid… was whispered in my family long before I could understand it. My father called it a project, my uncle called it a curse. And now you've dragged me into the archives, and I see it has swallowed me whole."
Emily's eyes widened. "So you do know something."
He turned, anguish etched across his face. "Not enough. Never enough to put it into words. All I know is Orchid was tied to bloodlines. To succession. And every time I tried to dig deeper, someone died."
Emily's heart hammered. For a moment she softened, seeing the torment in his eyes, but the document in her hand anchored her back into suspicion. "Then we're not done," she said firmly. "If Orchid is tied to bloodlines, then LU Archives won't be the last place. We need to go deeper."
Leonard shook his head violently. "You don't understand. Going deeper means walking straight into the jaws of the beast. My family… they won't let us walk away this time."
"Then we won't walk," Emily shot back, standing to face him. "We'll fight. I didn't risk my life for shadows. I risked it for truth."
Their eyes locked, anger and desperation colliding until neither could tell where fury ended and something more fragile began. The tension was unbearable, sparking between them like static. Leonard's lips parted, as if to say something softer, but the storm inside him twisted the words unsaid. He clenched his fists instead.
At last, Emily turned away, her voice trembling with a mix of steel and sorrow. "If you won't help me, I'll find the answers myself."
Leonard flinched, his heart clawing against his chest. He couldn't let her walk into LU's labyrinth alone. His voice came out rough. "Damn it, Emily… If you go, I go. Even if it kills me."
The next night, they stood before LU Tower's hidden annex, an obsidian monolith sealed from public eyes. Emily had pieced together the access route from fragments in the stolen files, while Leonard used dormant connections in the family hierarchy to forge a temporary clearance pass. It was a reckless gamble; if any system cross-checked the data, alarms would erupt instantly.
The entrance itself was unmarked, a seamless wall that required not only an encrypted pass but biometric approval. Emily's pulse thundered as Leonard pressed his palm against the scanner. For one eternal second, nothing happened—then the wall shuddered, and a narrow corridor opened, sterile and silent.
"Welcome to the Archives," Leonard whispered grimly.
Inside was a cathedral of secrets. Rows of glass chambers stretched endlessly, each glowing faintly with suspended files—both physical and digital, hybridized into crystalline memory cores. The air was cold, humming with the faint vibration of servers buried beneath the floor. Cameras tracked every movement, red eyes swiveling with eerie patience.
Emily exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the chill. "We need to move fast."
They walked side by side, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous silence. Leonard's nerves screamed with every turn. He remembered coming here as a boy once, under his father's hand, sworn never to speak of what he saw. He remembered the hush of the elders, the way even his uncle had bowed before the sealed vaults. Now, returning as an intruder, he felt the past claw at his skin.
Emily moved with purpose, scanning file indexes projected in midair. "Here," she murmured, pointing at a column labeled Project Orchid. Leonard's breath caught. The sigil carved onto the folder—a stylized orchid petal dripping crimson—was unmistakable. He reached out, but Emily caught his wrist.
"Let me," she said softly. He nodded.
Her fingers danced across the interface, bypassing firewalls with code she had prepared for days. One by one, layers peeled away, revealing documents buried decades deep. Names flashed by—anonymous donors, offshore accounts, ghost corporations—all tied together in a sprawling web of money and power. And then, in the center, a single line of connection: Isabella Qin.
Emily's stomach dropped. "She's here again."
Leonard leaned in, eyes wide. "That's impossible. Isabella… she disappeared before I was even born."
"But she's tied to Orchid," Emily whispered. "Her name appears as both recipient and controller of funds. And look—" she pointed to another file, "—the transfers trace back to LU's inner treasury. To your bloodline."
Leonard staggered back as though struck. "No. No, that can't be." His voice cracked. "Why would my family funnel everything into her?"
Emily dug deeper, her hands trembling as she decrypted another layer. Suddenly, a new codename appeared across the screen, glowing like a scar. [Orchid] – Phase II. Beneath it: Primary Subjects: Leonard Lu, Emily Lin.
Her breath froze. "Oh my God…"
Leonard's face went white. He ripped the console closer, scanning desperately. "No. This isn't real. This isn't—" His words choked off as he saw it: detailed genetic markers, psychological profiles, projected outcomes. Every page screamed that their lives had been mapped long before they had choices. Emily felt her legs weaken, bile rising in her throat.
"They were watching us," she whispered. "Guiding us. Every step we thought was ours—it was theirs."
Before she could collapse under the weight of revelation, another discovery emerged. A sealed folder, encrypted with triple-layered ciphers. Emily hesitated, but curiosity and dread compelled her. She cracked the codes one by one, until the final seal broke. What emerged was not another financial record, but a handwritten journal.
Leonard froze as his own name appeared on the cover. He reached for it, fingers trembling. The pages within bore his handwriting—exact, unmistakable—but written about events that had not yet occurred. Wars, betrayals, Emily's name entwined with prophecies of blood. His throat tightened.
"This… this isn't possible," he whispered. "These are my words. But I never wrote them."
Emily's heart pounded like a war drum. She reached the last page, where one chilling line stretched across in bold ink:
The next sacrifice: Emily Lin.
Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a cry. Leonard stared at the words as if they were daggers carved into his soul. His chest burned with panic, fury, and despair. He grabbed Emily's shoulders, his voice raw. "Emily, listen to me. Whatever this is, it's a lie. I would never—"
But she was trembling, her eyes brimming with both fear and doubt. The lamp of trust flickered dangerously between them. Behind them, the archives' alarms began to hum—soft at first, then growing louder, like the awakening of a beast that had finally noticed intruders.
Emily shut the journal, clutching it to her chest. "Whether it's a lie or not, Leonard, I'm already on their list. And if we don't unravel this Orchid curse soon…" Her gaze locked onto his, fierce despite her terror. "…it will kill me."
The alarms screamed, crimson lights flooding the chamber. Heavy doors sealed with metallic clangs. Shadows stirred in the corridors. And the veil of Orchid thickened around them, drawing them deeper into its deadly embrace.