The door shut softly behind her, but the silence inside her room felt colder than before.The red feather lay on her pillow, placed with intention.
Rhea froze, staring at it.
She had locked the door. Twice. No windows were open. No footsteps had echoed down the hall. Yet someone had been here. And left a message without words. Her hand slipped into her pocket, brushing against the paper Julius had given her.
It felt heavier now.
She pulled it out. The note was still there, but now a second paper was folded inside. A thin sheet, sealed with dark red wax. An owl stamped into the seal, sharp eyes, wings tucked.
She broke it open.
Inside was a short line of handwritten text:
"You're not the only one with questions.
Follow the sound of the bells. Midnight. Alone.
Room 12D, Lower Dormitory."
No name. No title. Just that.
She read it twice, then hid both papers beneath a loose board under her bed. For now, she needed to pretend everything was normal.
Even when it clearly wasn't. The cafeteria was louder than usual that evening, but the noise didn't feel real. It felt staged, like actors playing students.
As Rhea walked in, a few conversations stopped. She felt the glances. Whispered words floated behind her.
"Red badge girl again."
"She doesn't belong."
"Not from any Quadrant, that's what I heard."
She kept walking, tray in hand, until she found an empty spot. Alone, as always. She had just picked up her spoon when someone slid into the seat across from her.
A girl, older by a few years, with dark curls and sharp eyes. Her uniform bore a grey stripe along the shoulder. Her badge shimmered with a soft silver glow.
"Don't let them bother you," the girl said. "They sniff out new blood. Especially red tags."
Rhea blinked. "Thanks… I guess. Do I know you?"
"Elora. Quadrant II. You?"
"Rhea. Quadrant IV."
Elora nodded. "That's the one they keep quiet. Makes sense."
"What do you mean?" Rhea asked.
Elora tilted her head. "Every year, one Quadrant gets less attention. Less information. Fewer mentors. Fewer answers. It's not random."
Rhea stared at her. "What's the point of that?"
"To see who adapts," Elora said, picking up a piece of bread. "And who breaks."
At midnight, Rhea made her way through the lower dorm halls. The walls here were older, rougher. The lights flickered once as she passed under them.
Room 12D was at the end of a narrow corridor. The door opened before she could knock.
Inside, it was dim. A candle glowed on a desk in the corner. A boy sat in the shadows, his face partially hidden by a dark hood.
"You're early," he said.
"You're not Julius," she replied.
"No. Call me Aven. Doesn't matter what my real name was. You're not here for introductions."
He slid something across the desk. A photo. Grainy and faded.
Rhea picked it up.
A group of students stood in front of the main gates of the Institute. She recognized the background instantly. But what froze her blood was the center figure.
It was her.
Same face. Same eyes. Smiling in a way she hadn't smiled in a long time.
"That's not possible," she said.
"They don't always bring you here fresh," Aven replied. "Some of us were here before. Some forgot. Others were made to forget."
Rhea didn't know what to say.
"You're part of something," he said quietly. "You just don't know what yet."
He blew out the candle. The room sank into shadows.
"Go. Before they track you. And whatever you do, don't trust the ones who act too friendly."
Back in her room, Rhea locked the door and slipped under her blanket, but she didn't sleep. The feather still rested under her pillow. When she checked it again, its color had changed.
No longer red. It was black.
And above her bed, the owl emblem pulsed once with a soft white glow, then faded. Rhea stared into the dark, her pulse steady but her thoughts spinning.
Someone was watching. Someone remembered.
And now… so did she.