The Runic Grave wall didn't glow like magic.
It glowed like a warning flare.
MIRA SUN.7 DAYS.
The letters looked carved into the stone with something sharper than a chisel—something that knew exactly how to cut into fear.
Lina stood rigid, staring at the name as if her eyes could erase it through refusal.
"Mira," she whispered.
Beside her, Kai's hand tightened around hers so hard it hurt.
Reyon's voice came out thin. "Okay. No. Nope. I'm vetoing this wall."
Seren didn't speak.
She was shaking, eyes bright with Soul Echo strain, as if she was listening to a sound no one else could hear.
"I can feel it," Seren whispered finally. "The… death echo. It's already forming around her name."
Lina's throat tightened. "No. It's a trick."
Kai's voice was low and lethal. "It's a countdown."
Reyon swallowed. "That's… the same thing, but scarier."
The corridor behind them seemed to breathe—cold air moving through the forbidden wing like the academy itself had taken a slow, satisfied inhale.
Lina turned sharply. "We have to find her. Now."
Seren nodded too fast. "Yes. Before—before it locks in."
Kai didn't move.
He stared at the runes beneath Mira's name, jaw clenched, eyes faintly gold.
"Look," he said quietly.
Reyon leaned forward, squinting. "At what? The inevitable doom?"
Kai pointed lower, at a line carved beneath the countdown, faint at first but sharpening as they watched—letters emerging as if the stone were deciding whether it wanted to speak.
A sentence formed.
THE NAME APPEARS WHEN THE CHOICE IS ALREADY MADE.
Lina's breath stopped.
Seren's hand flew to her mouth.
Reyon whispered, "That's… unfair. That's not how warnings are supposed to work."
Kai's gaze didn't leave the stone. "It's not a warning. It's a record."
Lina's chest went cold. "A record of what?"
Kai's voice turned quieter. "Of fate. Or of the Council."
Lina's mind flashed back to Mira's coercion mark—black threaded with pale light.
The Council wasn't just reacting to chaos.
They were orchestrating it.
And Mira's name appearing here—after the choice was already made—meant someone had already decided something for her.
Lina's flame flared in her bones, the tether lines burning hotter along her ribs.
She staggered slightly.
Kai's grip tightened instantly, supporting her without even looking.
"Lina," he murmured. "Your memory—"
"I'm fine," Lina lied automatically.
Seren's eyes snapped to Lina. "You're not."
Lina swallowed hard. "I'm fine enough to save Mira."
Reyon looked between them, voice cracking with forced humor. "We're really speedrunning trauma, aren't we? We just got Kai back and now we're losing Mira on a timer."
Seren whispered, "Seven days."
Kai finally looked away from the wall. His eyes were sharp now—calculating.
"The Council scheduled the Masquerade tonight," he said. "Right after the Runic Grave activates."
Reyon frowned. "So… it's a party and a prophecy countdown. Multitasking."
Kai's voice hardened. "It's a harvest event."
Lina's stomach dropped. "Harvest… like emotions."
Kai nodded once. "Fear spikes. Panic. Desperation. Love. Grief. The Veilbound feed on it. The Council can measure it."
Seren's eyes widened. "And masks—"
"Make identity easy to manipulate," Kai finished. "And blame easy to assign."
Lina's bones burned again, a sharp pulse through the tether.
She tasted metal.
A memory slipped—tiny, harmless—something about breakfast, a laugh, a detail—
gone.
Lina's breath caught, panic rising.
Kai noticed immediately.
"Say your name," he said, urgent.
Lina blinked hard, forcing focus. "Lina Veris."
Kai didn't relax. "Again."
"Lina Veris."
His voice softened slightly. "Stay real."
Lina's throat tightened. "I'm here."
Reyon stared at them, eyes wide. "Okay. That is… both terrifying and romantic."
Seren whispered, "Touch anchors. Names stabilize."
Kai's eyes flicked to Seren. "We don't split up."
Lina nodded. "We find Mira first."
They turned as one—
And froze.
Because Mira wasn't behind them.
She wasn't slumped by the corridor wall like before.
She wasn't in the shadow of the Mirror Library door.
She was gone.
Only a faint scorch mark remained on the floor where her coercion mark had flared—like she'd been pulled through a threshold without leaving footprints.
Lina's heart stopped.
"Mira?" she shouted.
No answer.
Seren's eyes widened, and her Soul Echoes flared so bright it looked painful.
"She didn't run," Seren whispered. "I would hear the echo of her choice if she ran."
Kai's jaw clenched. "They took her."
Reyon's voice cracked. "Who is 'they' today? Because I'm losing track."
Seren whispered, shaking, "The mark. The Council. The Veilbound. All of them."
Lina's flame surged in her bones.
"We're going to get her back," Lina said, voice fierce and shaking. "Before seven days turns into six."
A sharp sound echoed down the corridor.
Footsteps.
Official. Measured.
The Council attendant approached again, expression smooth as polished stone, the sealed envelope still in hand like it was the most important thing in the world.
"You are not authorized to be here," the attendant said calmly.
Reyon gaped. "We're literally watching a death countdown wall write names and you're worried about authorization?"
The attendant didn't blink. "The Runic Grave is a restricted artifact. Discussion of it is forbidden under Council order."
Seren's voice trembled. "Mira's name is on it."
The attendant's eyes flicked briefly toward the wall—one small glance, too practiced.
Then back to them.
"Student Mira Sun is not on any list," the attendant said evenly.
Lina went cold. "What did you just say?"
The attendant lifted the envelope. "Founders' Masquerade. Attendance is mandatory. Noncompliance will be treated as insubordination."
Kai stepped forward, voice low and dangerous. "Where is Mira?"
The attendant's smile didn't reach their eyes.
"Mira Sun is safe," they said.
The runes behind them pulsed like a lie.
Lina's flame rose in her palm, bright gold edging black. "If she's safe, why is her name on a death wall?"
The attendant's gaze sharpened.
"You will refrain from inflammatory language."
Reyon laughed once—sharp and humorless. "Inflammatory. Nice word choice for someone standing near a fire girl."
Kai's Shadowsteel flared subtly at his wrist.
The attendant's eyes flicked to it—recognition, calculation.
Then their tone softened into something almost gentle.
"Your presence at the Masquerade will ensure your friends remain… supported."
Lina's blood turned to ice.
"Supported," she echoed.
Seren whispered, "That's a threat."
Kai's voice dropped. "It's blackmail."
The attendant didn't deny it.
Instead, they extended the envelope toward Lina.
"Open it," they said.
Lina didn't reach for it.
The envelope opened itself.
The wax seal cracked with a quiet snap—like a bone breaking politely.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Blank.
For one heartbeat.
Then ink bled across it, writing by itself in elegant script.
FOUNDERS' MASQUERADE — TONIGHTMASKS REQUIREDIDENTITY CHECK AT ENTRY
Reyon swallowed. "Identity check? That's hilarious."
Seren's face went pale. "No. That's—"
Kai's voice was flat. "The Name Test. They're going to force one publicly."
Lina's stomach twisted.
The paper wrote again.
A new line forming, slower, heavier.
SPECIAL GUESTS WILL BE SELECTED.
Then the final line appeared, dripping ink like a wound:
DO NOT LOOK IN THE MIRRORS.
Lina's breath caught.
Her bones burned.
The tether pulsed—one sharp, urgent throb.
And then the paper wrote one more name at the bottom.
A name that made Lina's blood run cold:
KAI RHEN.
Seren whispered, horrified, "They're inviting him like he's bait."
Reyon's voice broke. "Or like he's the prize."
Kai stared at his own name on the page, jaw clenched.
Lina's flame rose.
Because she understood now.
The Masquerade wasn't a party.
It was a trap built from music, silk, masks…
…and names.
To be Continued© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.