Arden's POV
I woke to the soft hum of the dormitory. The morning light spilled across the room, highlighting the faint red markings above my bed.
Observe. Adapt. Survive.
The message hadn't changed. But somehow, it felt heavier today, like a weight pressing against my chest.
I ran my fingers over the letters, memorizing them. I didn't know who wrote them. I didn't know why. But I knew one thing: I couldn't ignore them.
Breakfast was tense. The whispers had grown. I could hear faint comments as I passed by:
"Provisional rank…"
"Bottom of the board…"
"Does he even belong here?"
I tried not to react. Any sign of fear or frustration would be noted. Any hesitation would be exploited.
Mira caught my arm gently. "Ignore them. Focus on the task. The Game begins every day, Arden. Today will be… your first secret challenge."
"Secret challenge?" I asked, my voice tight.
She didn't answer. She only gave me a small, knowing smile.
The first class of the day ended quickly. Higher-ranked students moved among us silently, their presence suffocating.
At exactly noon, a small envelope appeared on my desk. I hadn't seen anyone place it there.
I tore it open carefully.
Inside, a note written in faint red ink:
Meet in the east wing. Midnight. Alone. Fail, and the consequences will be recorded.
My heart raced. Midnight? Alone?
This isn't just an exercise, I thought. This is a test. A trap.
All afternoon, I tried to prepare. I studied the hallways. I memorized paths. I observed patterns of foot traffic.
But no matter what I did, a sense of unease followed me.
At dinner, Kian leaned toward me. "You got a note too?" he asked quietly.
I nodded. "Midnight. East wing."
He frowned. "You're not thinking of going alone, are you?"
"I don't have a choice," I muttered. "It's part of the Game."
Sylvie shook her head. "The Game isn't just what you see in class. They test you here, in the halls, in the shadows. Don't underestimate it."
I nodded. I didn't feel reassured.
The hours crawled. Every sound seemed amplified. Every shadow seemed alive.
Finally, midnight arrived. I slipped from the dorm quietly, my bag light, my steps measured. The hallways were empty, silent except for the echo of my own footsteps.
The east wing loomed ahead. A long corridor, dimly lit. Paintings of past students stared at me. Their eyes seemed to follow my every movement.
I clutched the envelope in my hand. My pulse thumped violently.
A faint light glowed at the end of the corridor. I approached cautiously.
And then I heard it — a whisper.
"Number 013…"
I froze. My heart pounded.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Tall, cloaked in black, face hidden.
"You've been chosen," the voice said. "Your performance has been observed. Tonight, you'll demonstrate your awareness, your adaptation, and your survival skills."
I swallowed hard. "What do I… what do I have to do?"
"Follow the path," the figure said. "Observe the details. Solve the riddles. Complete the tasks. And remember — failure is permanent."
The figure vanished into the shadows, leaving only faint red markings on the floor.
Observe. Adapt. Survive.
I followed the marks carefully. Every step measured. Every glance scrutinized.
The path led me to a small chamber. Inside, riddles were etched into the walls. Small physical tasks were arranged on the floor — obstacles, levers, puzzles. Everything seemed designed to test observation, intelligence, coordination, and calmness under pressure.
I worked carefully. Solved each riddle step by step. Navigated the obstacles. Tried not to think about the presence watching me, noting every hesitation, every misstep.
Hours seemed to pass in minutes. My chest ached. My hands shook.
And then I reached the final puzzle. A lockbox with a faint red seal.
Open if you are worthy.
I took a deep breath. My fingers trembled as I worked the combination. My mind raced.
Finally, it clicked open. Inside: a small scroll.
Congratulations, Number 013. You have survived the first secret challenge. But the Game has only begun. Observe carefully. The Circle watches all.
I exhaled, my body trembling from exhaustion.
Back in the dorm, I sat on my bed, notebook in hand, writing down every detail.
Every step. Every riddle. Every shadow. Every whisper.
I didn't know who had designed this test. I didn't know who watched me. I didn't know if the reward was real or just another trap.
But I knew one thing: Edelweiss wasn't a school.
It was a battlefield.
And I had survived my first night in the shadows.
Before sleep, I glanced toward the courtyard. And as expected, a faint silhouette appeared near the fountain — Rank I. Elaria Montclair.
With the same aura as she has, she didn't move. Didn't smile. Didn't speak. Just watched.
I felt that strange pull again. The same feeling I couldn't explain.
And I knew, somehow, she was connected to this Game.
Somehow, she mattered.
I exhaled slowly.
Tomorrow, the Game would continue.
And I would need every ounce of awareness, intelligence, and courage I had to survive.