Silence followed chaos like a held breath.
Ashen Rowan was escorted through BloodBorn Academy's lower corridors without restraints—an intentional choice, he realized. The containment officers flanked him, not leading, not pushing.
Watching.
Measuring.
The halls here were different. No windows. No student chatter. The walls were layered with etched metal and faintly glowing sigils that pulsed in slow, watchful rhythms. Each step Ashen took sent a ripple through the air, subtle but real.
He felt it.
And worse—he felt that they felt it too.
"Where are you taking me?" Ashen asked.
The officer on his left didn't answer. The one on his right glanced sideways, jaw tight.
"To see if you're lying," he said finally. "Or if the academy is."
They stopped before a circular door of obsidian glass, veins of crimson light threaded through it like frozen lightning. As Ashen approached, the sigils flared—then dimmed, as if confused.
The door opened anyway.
Inside was a room designed to break people.
Smooth stone walls curved inward, etched with truth-binding arrays. The floor bore a massive blood sigil, dormant but hungry. At the center stood a single chair—unrestrained, unguarded.
Ashen exhaled slowly.
This is an interrogation chamber.
And for some reason, it felt… familiar.
"Sit," an officer ordered.
Ashen did.
Nothing happened.
No restraints snapped shut. No runes activated. The chamber remained quiet, inert.
The officers exchanged uneasy looks.
From the far wall, a figure stepped forward as the shadows peeled away.
The principal.
Up close, he looked older than Ashen had thought. Not in years—but in weight. His eyes were sharp, ancient, and very tired.
"Ashen Rowan," the principal said. "Do you know what Forbidden Blood is?"
Ashen shook his head.
"No."
The truth came easily.
The blood sigil beneath his feet flickered once—then went dark.
The deputy principal stood near the wall, arms crossed tightly.
"He's not lying," the deputy muttered.
The principal studied Ashen carefully.
"Do you experience visions?" he asked. "Dreams of fire, stone, voices that don't belong to you?"
Ashen hesitated.
That pause made every officer tense.
"…Sometimes," Ashen said finally. "But I thought they were nightmares."
The sigil trembled.
The principal closed his eyes briefly.
"Of course you did."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Your parents," he said, "were they ever involved in academy affairs?"
Ashen's stomach tightened.
"No," he answered instantly.
The sigil flared red.
A sharp pain lanced through Ashen's chest—not from the sigil, but from somewhere deeper. His breath caught, vision swimming.
The principal stiffened.
"That reaction," he said slowly, "wasn't the sigil rejecting your lie."
Ashen looked up, breathing hard.
"…Then what was it?"
The principal met his gaze.
"It was your blood refusing to speak."
The room chilled.
One of the officers swore under his breath.
"That's impossible," the deputy said. "A bloodline can't suppress its own truth response."
The floor sigil cracked.
Just a hairline fracture.
But it was enough.
Ashen felt it then—a low, steady pulse beneath his skin. Not anger. Not fear.
Control.
Without realizing it, he straightened in the chair.
"I don't know who you think I am," Ashen said quietly, "but I didn't choose any of this."
The sigil beneath him shut down completely.
Every rune in the chamber went dark.
The containment officers stumbled back as if shoved.
The principal didn't move.
Instead, he smiled.
A grim, humorless curve of the lips.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "You're not activating the blood."
Ashen frowned.
"Then what am I doing?"
The principal's smile faded.
"You're overriding it."
The deputy's face went pale.
"That means he's not just an heir," he whispered. "He's—"
The chamber lights flickered violently.
Deep beneath the academy, something answered.
Ashen gasped as another vision tore through him—clearer this time.
A throne of shattered stone.
Kneeling figures soaked in blood—not worshipping, but swearing fealty.
And a voice—not furious now, but calm.
They will come for you.
Ashen slammed back into reality, chair scraping against the floor as he stood abruptly.
"Who will?" he demanded.
Every alarm in the academy chimed once.
Not a warning.
A notification.
The principal turned toward the wall as fresh sigils ignited across it—foreign, aggressive, unmistakably hostile.
The deputy stared at the readings in horror.
"Sir," he whispered, "external breach."
The principal's eyes hardened.
"Too soon."
Ashen looked between them, heart pounding.
"What's happening?"
The principal met his gaze.
"The world," he said, "just realized you're alive."
Outside, BloodBorn Academy's protective barrier shattered like glass.
And far beyond the city, something ancient and hungry changed direction.