Caliban's final word—
"Below."
—hung in the air like the last breath before a plunge.
He didn't elaborate.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't look ashamed.
He just stood there, serene and unmovable, as if he hadn't just admitted to imprisoning my brother beneath the Academy for six years.
Rowan trembled violently, fingers clutching mine like he feared I'd disappear.
Chandler looked seconds away from attacking the Headmaster anyway.
Horace stood between Caliban and the bed, shoulders rigid, voice quiet with murderous restraint.
Lucian stared at the Headmaster with the expression of someone watching a ten-thousand-piece puzzle snap into place—
and hating the picture it revealed.
Caliban simply folded his hands behind his back.
"This concludes our discussion," he said mildly.
"Miss Fonze requires rest. I will inform the Council of her survival."
Horace's voice dropped to a lethal tone.
"You're not leaving this room."
Caliban stopped.
Then turned back toward him with slow, deliberate grace.
"Your Highness," he said softly,
"I outrank every student in this Academy—even you."
Chandler scoffed bitterly.
"Not for long."
Lucian stepped forward, holding up the tablet.
"Your fingerprints are all over the sabotage.
The induction protocol.
The override logs.
Everything you tampered with is now documented."
Caliban remained calm.
"Unfortunate.
Though no documentation can prove anything without context."
Rowan's voice broke through the air, small and trembling.
"You hurt Elliot…
you hurt Elle…
and you're still pretending you're right?"
Caliban looked at him with an expression that was almost pitying.
"Little Beta," he murmured,
"you do not understand what I preserve for this Academy."
Rowan's knees weakened.
Chandler moved behind him, steadying him again.
Horace's voice sharpened.
"Preserve what? Your own crimes?"
Caliban flicked his gaze back to me.
"You have no idea what you're capable of, Elleanore."
My heart pounded.
"Tell me," I whispered.
"Tell me what you think I am."
Caliban's smile was thin.
"You are a continuation."
The world narrowed.
Rowan inhaled sharply.
Chandler went still.
Lucian's eyes widened.
Horace whispered:
"Continuation of what?"
Caliban's voice softened, almost reverent.
"Of your brother."
My breath caught in my throat.
"You carry the same instability," he murmured,
"and the same potential.
Which means whatever broke him will eventually break you."
Rowan sobbed.
Chandler cursed under his breath.
Horace took a full step forward.
"Get out," he growled.
But Caliban shook his head.
"No. Not yet."
He looked at me again—
that cold, clinical interest returning to his grey eyes.
"You will come to understand the truth soon enough," he said.
"When you descend to the lower floors."
Horace froze.
Chandler stared.
Rowan's breath hitched.
Lucian narrowed his eyes.
"You want her to go down there," Lucian said slowly.
Caliban didn't deny it.
He simply said:
"It is the only way she will see for herself."
A chill ran through me.
He inclined his head, perfectly polite.
"I will expect you soon, Miss Fonze."
Then he turned—
and walked out.
As if he hadn't just shattered the world.
THE SILENCE AFTER HE LEAVES
The room stayed frozen for several seconds after the doors closed.
No one breathed.
No one moved.
It was Rowan who broke the silence first.
He sank to the floor, both hands over his face.
"Elle…
Elliot…
Elle… I'm sorry—
I'm so sorry—"
I reached for him.
He crawled immediately into my arms, burying his face against my shoulder.
Chandler paced like a storm, jaw clenched so hard his teeth creaked.
"That bastard.
That rotten—
He enjoyed telling you."
Horace stood rigid, fists shaking at his sides.
"He talked about Elliot like he was a tool."
Lucian exhaled sharply, stepping over to the console.
"He was telling partial truths," he said quietly.
"But he's hiding the most important parts."
Chandler snapped:
"Which part?"
Lucian turned the tablet around.
On the screen was a blueprint—
the Academy's full architectural map.
Except—
Rowan looked up, eyes red.
"T-that's… that's not the same blueprint from orientation…"
Lucian nodded.
"No. It's not."
Horace frowned.
"What's missing?"
Lucian tapped the lower half of the blueprint.
"The forbidden floors."
We all stared.
He zoomed in.
Sections labeled:
B5 — Research Level
B6 — Containment
B7 — Restricted Facility
B8 — Sealed Archive
B9 — Alpha Resonance Vault
B10 — Unlisted
Rowan's voice cracked.
"What do they even do down there?"
Lucian's jaw tightened.
"Experiments."
Chandler swore viciously.
Horace's eyes locked on B10.
"And that," he murmured,
"is where Elliot is."
Lucian nodded grimly.
"Most likely."
I swallowed.
Hard.
"So Caliban wants us to go down."
"No," Lucian corrected quietly.
"He expects you to go."
Chandler halted in his tracks.
"He expects her to walk straight into his lab?"
Horace growled.
"He's insane."
Rowan shook his head rapidly.
"No. No, Elle, you're not going. You're not—"
But I already knew.
Which terrified me.
"I'm going."
All three boys froze.
Rowan's grip on my sleeve tightened.
"No—no, Elle, you can't—please—you almost died today—"
Chandler shook his head vehemently.
"It's suicide. He wants you isolated."
Horace stepped closer, voice low and furious.
"He could trap you.
He could use you like he used Elliot."
Lucian watched me carefully.
Thoughtfully.
Wariness in his eyes.
"Elleanore," he said quietly,
"why do you think he told you the truth?"
I swallowed.
"…because he knows I'll go."
Everyone froze at my words.
Rowan sobbed softly.
Chandler looked away.
Horace clenched his fists harder.
Lucian's expression sharpened.
"He told you just enough to make you walk into the lion's den."
"But," I said,
"he didn't expect I'd bring all of you with me."
The boys looked up.
Horace inhaled.
Rowan brushed tears off his face.
Chandler's jaw flexed.
Lucian raised a brow.
"I'm not going alone," I said firmly.
"If Elliot is really down there—
I'm bringing him back."
Horace stepped to my side.
"You're not descending any floor without me."
Chandler placed a hand over mine.
"I'm with you. All the way down."
Rowan nodded fiercely, wiping his face.
"I'm going too. I'm not letting him hurt you again."
Lucian closed the tablet with a snap.
"Then I suppose I'll make our entrance possible."
I exhaled.
The decision settled into my bones like gravity.
"Tonight," I whispered.
Horace nodded.
"Yes."
"Tonight," Rowan echoed.
Chandler smirked humorlessly.
"Below."
Lucian smiled faintly.
"Let's see what the Academy has been hiding."
For the first time since the chamber—
I felt steady.
Not unafraid.
But steady.
My brother was alive.
And nothing—
not Caliban,
not the Academy,
not the lower floors—
would stop me from getting to him.
Below the Academy, the Dark Begins
Night fell fast over the Academy.
Not the gentle, peaceful kind of night—
the kind that hides things,
holds them,
makes them sharper.
The campus was quiet.
The dormitory halls still.
The sky—violet and cloud-bruised—hung heavy above the towers.
Inside the royal dormitory,
the air hummed with a tension thick enough to taste.
Lucian paced by the wall console, tapping rapid commands into his tablet.
Horace stood near the window, staring out across the dark courtyard, arms folded, jaw tight.
Chandler leaned against the doorway, head lowered, working silently on rewrapping the bandages around his bruised knuckles.
Rowan sat beside me on the bed, one hand clasped tightly in mine, refusing to let go even for a moment.
No one spoke at first.
We didn't need to.
We all knew:
Tonight, everything would change.
PREPARATIONS BEGIN
Lucian snapped his tablet shut.
"Security rotation shifts begin in eight minutes."
Horace turned from the window.
"That gives us how much time?"
Lucian shrugged.
"Enough, if we don't stall. Not enough, if anyone hesitates."
He looked at me when he said it.
Not accusatory.
Not doubting.
Checking.
I squeezed Rowan's hand and stood.
Chandler straightened off the wall, watching me carefully.
Horace inhaled slowly—relief flickering through the tightness in his chest seeing I was strong enough to stand.
Rowan stood with me instantly.
Lucian nodded.
"Then let's begin."
Horace began giving orders—not like a monarch-in-training, but like someone who couldn't bear to let anything else slip out of his control.
"Rowan stays beside Elleanore the entire time."
Rowan nodded fiercely.
"I won't lose her."
"Chandler takes rear guard," Horace continued.
"Break anything that slows us down."
Chandler cracked his knuckles.
"Happily."
"Lucian handles the locks, cameras, and alarms."
Lucian's lips quirked faintly.
"As always."
I blinked.
"And you…?"
Horace met my eyes.
"I stay with you."
My throat tightened.
Rowan's fingers squeezed mine.
Chandler glanced between us, expression softening, but determined.
Lucian cleared his throat.
"We leave in two minutes."
CALIBAN WATCHES FROM THE SHADOWS
The hallway outside the royal dormitory was pitch-black.
No lanterns lit the marble floor.
No guards spoke.
Nothing moved.
Except one person.
Caliban Stride stood at the far end of the long corridor—
hands behind his back,
eyes half-lidded,
expression unreadable.
He didn't approach the dormitory.
He simply stood there.
Watching.
Waiting.
The tall stained-glass window cast his shadow long across the floor—
a long, pointed silhouette stretching toward the door of the royal wing.
Caliban whispered to the emptiness:
"It has begun."
His shadow seemed to pulse once against the marble.
Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
THE GROUP MOVES OUT
Lucian cracked the door open a hair.
"No guards."
Chandler stepped out first, silent and quick, eyes adjusting instantly.
Then Rowan led me out, close enough that our shoulders brushed.
Horace followed, posture taut, gaze sweeping the entire hall for danger.
Lucian closed the door behind us and began leading us through a series of narrow back passages—staff corridors usually used by maintenance workers.
They were quiet, dimly lit, and rarely walked by students.
Perfect.
Horace's voice lowered to a whisper.
"Stay close."
Rowan clung to my hand.
Chandler walked backward part of the way, checking behind us.
Lucian stopped at an unmarked metal door near the end of the corridor.
"This leads to the east wing's archival storage," he whispered.
"Below that… the older levels."
Rowan looked nervous.
"Those… aren't on the student map."
Chandler muttered, "Good."
Horace gestured to Lucian.
"Open it."
Lucian entered a sequence of codes.
The lock didn't budge.
He tried another.
Still nothing.
His brow furrowed.
"…interesting."
Chandler stepped forward.
"Want me to break it?"
"No," Lucian said sharply.
"Breaking this door triggers a lockdown."
Rowan flinched.
"Then how—?"
Lucian knelt, running his fingers along the metal frame.
Then he exhaled.
"Oh.
Well.
At least they're consistent."
"What?" Horace asked.
Lucian tapped the door lightly.
"This was welded shut."
Chandler swore.
Rowan's eyes widened.
"They… they sealed it? Why?"
Lucian glanced back at me.
"Because this door leads to where Elliot was taken."
Silence.
Horace stepped forward.
"Can you unseal it?"
Lucian grinned faintly.
"Yes. Watch this."
THE SECRET PASSAGEWAY
Lucian reached inside his coat and pulled out something that did not belong inside a student's dormitory: a small, palm-sized cutting device that glowed faintly at the tip.
Chandler blinked.
"Is that…?"
Lucian shrugged.
"Academy-issued staff tool."
"You're not staff."
Lucian gave him a dry look.
"Yet I have it."
He pressed the device to the welded seams.
A soft, precise beam cut through the metal silently.
Rowan squeezed my hand harder.
Horace leaned forward with a protective stance.
Chandler watched the hall like a wolf guarding territory.
The welds hissed and separated…
…and the door creaked open a few centimeters.
Lucian pushed it gently.
It groaned open on rusted hinges.
Revealing—
Darkness.
Cold, hollow darkness that smelled of dust and metal and something older.
A stone staircase spiraled downward into the dark.
Rowan swallowed.
"Is this really… the way?"
Lucian nodded.
"Yes."
Horace moved to stand beside me again, offering his hand.
"Stay close.
Don't let go."
I took his hand.
I took Rowan's too.
Chandler touched my shoulder briefly as he passed, his voice low:
"Once we start going down…
there's no going back up until we find him."
Lucian stepped inside first, tablet glowing in one hand.
"Welcome," he said softly,
"to the floors the Academy pretends don't exist."
We followed him inside.
The metal door swung shut behind us.
The sound echoed down the spiral staircase like a warning.
DESCENDING THE FIRST FLIGHT
The staircase was narrow and steep.
Cold stone walls pressed close around us.
Faint lamps flickered every few steps, illuminating only what we needed to see—
no more, no less.
Rowan kept whispering under his breath:
"Careful… careful… Elle, hold on…"
Chandler walked behind us, eyes sharp.
Horace held my hand tightly, guiding me carefully down each step.
After what felt like twenty floors, Lucian stopped.
"There it is."
We reached a wide landing.
A heavy steel door marked:
B5 — AUTHORIZED RESEARCH ONLY
My heart raced.
Horace's grip tightened.
Rowan trembled.
Chandler cracked his knuckles.
Lucian placed his palm against the scanner.
It blinked red.
"Denied."
He frowned.
"That shouldn't happen. My clearance spoof should work on Level 5 systems."
Chandler stepped forward.
"I can break it."
Lucian grabbed his wrist.
"No. This one triggers a silent alarm straight to Caliban's office if forced."
Rowan whispered:
"Then how do we get in…?"
Lucian exhaled slowly.
"Caliban wants us to go down…
but not easily."
Horace lowered his voice.
"Maybe he wants to slow us.
Not stop us."
That was worse.
Lucian tapped through several screens.
Then he froze.
"Oh no."
Chandler tensed.
"What?"
Lucian slowly turned the tablet toward us.
The door wasn't locked.
It wasn't sealed.
It wasn't blocked.
It was waiting.
The screen flashed:
ACCESS GRANTED —
SUBJECT: ELLEANORE FONZE
Rowan gasped.
Horace inhaled sharply.
Chandler's eyes widened.
Lucian whispered:
"Oh stars…
he made you the key."
The door hissed open.
A cold gust of air poured out.
And deeper darkness waited beyond.
I stepped forward.
Horace grabbed my shoulder.
Rowan held my sleeve.
Chandler caught my wrist.
Lucian braced beside me.
I whispered:
"Let's go."
Together—
we stepped into B5.
And the door closed behind us.