The tunnel was slick with blood and sweat.
Ours.
I didn't realize how bad it was until James stumbled and caught himself against the wall, leaving a smear of red behind. His hand was wrapped in his shirt, soaked through from a deep cut he'd gotten during the fall.
I glanced at mine—scratches along my arm, bruises blooming beneath my skin, and a sharp ache in my ribs every time I moved. But it was nothing compared to Felix.
Felix was barely conscious now.
He'd stopped speaking a while ago, lips pale, breath shallow. His leg had gone stiff, twisted in a way that told us it was more than just broken. Maybe fractured in more than one place. Maybe worse.
"Felix," I whispered. "Stay with us."
He didn't answer.
James stopped and turned toward me. "He needs help now."
"I know," I said. My voice was hoarse.
"But Rosa, listen." James lowered his voice. "If we don't find a way out soon, he won't make it."
The words sat like a stone in my stomach.
Felix was heavy between us, his weight dragging us down. James had one arm around his waist, I had the other. Every step felt like a decision between survival and loyalty.
"He's not dying in here," I said finally.
James didn't argue.
The tunnel ahead sloped downward, where a faint trickling sound echoed—water. Maybe a stream. Maybe a clue. But it wasn't the sound that stopped me.
It was the humming.
Low. Vibrational. Like a machine, or… a voice humming a song without words.
James heard it too. He raised the flashlight.
At the edge of the beam stood a shadow.
No. A person.
Tall. Calm.
Watching.
"Elias," I said.
He stepped forward. "You need help."
"No," I said, standing in front of Felix. "We need answers."
He ignored me, kneeling beside Felix, assessing him with quick, trained eyes.
"His leg is fractured," Elias said. "And he's losing too much blood. You won't get far carrying him."
"We're not leaving him," James snapped.
Elias didn't flinch. "I didn't say you would."
He pulled a folded cloth from his coat and wrapped it tightly around Felix's leg. Then a metal rod—from his bag—clicked open like a brace. He slid it into place without hesitation.
Felix groaned.
But he opened his eyes.
"Where…?"
"You're lucky," Elias said calmly. "That you fell into the part of the tunnel I reinforced."
"Why?" I asked. "Why are you helping us now?"
He met my eyes.
"Mira's gone rogue," he said. "She took something that wasn't meant to be found."
"The pendant?" I asked.
"No," he replied. "The map inside it."
My blood ran cold.
"She knew what it would lead to," he continued. "But she didn't care. I thought she was like the rest of you. I was wrong."
"You worked with her?" James asked.
"I watched her," Elias said. "The same way I watched you. But she moved first."
James tensed. "Why not stop her?"
"Because the Circle wouldn't let me," Elias said. "Until now."
The word Circle felt like a crack in the air. The same one our parents had once served. The same one that had divided us. Used us.
And maybe—was still using us.
Felix tried to speak, but only a faint sound came out. I knelt beside him, brushing his hair back.
"You're okay," I whispered. "We're getting you out."
Elias stood. "There's a shortcut up ahead. An elevator shaft. Old, but it still works. I fixed it."
"You knew we'd come this way?" I asked.
"No," Elias said. "But she did. Mira planned this."
Those words hit hard.
"She wanted us to fall?" James asked.
"She needed time. The fall delayed you," Elias said. "Now she's a full hour ahead."
I clenched my fists. "Then we catch up."
"You can't run after her carrying him," Elias said simply. "So I'll carry him."
James and I stared.
"You'll what?" I asked.
"I owe him that," Elias said, looking at Felix. "And I owe you answers."
"I don't trust you," I said.
"I know," he replied.
But he lifted Felix gently, with ease, as if he'd done this before. Felix didn't protest—he couldn't.
"Let's go," Elias said.
We moved as fast as we could, Elias in front, James and I flanking him. The tunnel narrowed, then opened again, and suddenly we were in a chamber lit by pulsing blue lights.
The elevator was there—ancient but intact. Metal doors crusted with age, but the panel blinked dimly.
"You fixed this?" James asked.
Elias nodded. "It goes to the observatory. Where she's headed."
The elevator groaned to life. The ride up was silent, tense. Felix drifted in and out of consciousness. James held the flashlight close to his face, checking his pulse. I stared at the panel, willing it to move faster.
Then the doors opened.
And we stepped into a room lined with windows—moonlight spilling across cracked marble floors.
At the far end, a set of double doors stood open.
And Mira stood inside.
Waiting.
She turned as we entered, her expression unreadable. Behind her, a wall covered in symbols—glowing faintly like veins of light—pulsed with an otherworldly hum.
"You came," she said softly.
"No thanks to you," I growled.
She looked at Elias. "So you finally picked a side."
"I always had one," he replied.
Mira smiled faintly. "Good. Then you'll understand why I can't let you stop me now."
She stepped back.
And the doors slammed shut.
Locked.
We were inside.
But so was she.
The room felt colder now.
Maybe it was the height—we were somewhere above the tunnels, above the earth, maybe even above the lie we'd been living in.
Or maybe it was what she said.
"Then you'll understand why I can't let you stop me now."
Mira's voice still rang in my head like an echo I couldn't shake.
Felix stirred in Elias' arms again, and that pulled me right back to what mattered.
"Set him down," I said. "He's burning up."
Elias lowered him carefully onto the ground near the far wall, away from Mira. James knelt beside him immediately, checking his pulse again.
"His fever's worse," James said. "We need medical supplies. Now."
I brushed Felix's hair back again, gently this time, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
He looked fragile.
I'd never seen him like that.
Felix was the one who walked ahead. The one who knew what to say—even when I hated him for saying it. The one who challenged me, and infuriated me… and yet, here I was, holding my breath every time his eyelids fluttered.
Something inside me twisted—warm and sharp and terrifying.
I didn't want to feel it.
Not now. Not here.
But I did.
And I was scared of it.
More than I was scared of Mira.
I stood and faced her.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "What's behind that door?"
Mira didn't answer right away. She stared at the wall of symbols behind her, almost like she was seeing something we couldn't.
"Do you know what our parents died protecting?" she said finally. "Do you know what they gave up everything to keep hidden?"
"We were told it was information," James said. "Something the Circle wanted to use."
She turned toward us slowly. "It was a person."
The room went still.
"A person?" I repeated.
Mira nodded.
"A child. Someone created to control what lies beneath this entire place. Someone not supposed to exist. They locked him away to protect him. And to protect you."
James stepped back. "No… That's not possible."
"It is," Elias said quietly. "I was sent to make sure no one ever found out. But Mira did."
I stared at her. "That's what you're after?"
She looked straight at me.
"I'm not after him," she said. "I'm protecting him. Because you, Rosa... you're the key. You're the one who can unlock what binds him. Your pendant, your bloodline, your father's legacy—it all leads to this."
My throat closed up.
"You knew my father?" I asked.
Mira nodded. "Better than you think. He didn't die in that fire, Rosa. He gave himself to the Circle. To protect the boy. To protect you. And Felix… he wasn't just part of this mission. He was part of your father's team."
My stomach turned.
I looked down at Felix, unconscious and burning up. A memory flashed in my mind—of him standing at the edge of the forest the day we met. He looked like he was waiting for me.
He had been.
He knew.
He knew me long before I knew him.
And suddenly, the feeling that had been growing in me—quietly, stubbornly—exploded into something undeniable.
I cared about him.
And now I didn't know who to trust anymore.
"You all used us," James said bitterly. "Like we're just pieces on a board."
Mira shook her head. "No. You're not pieces. You're the only ones left who can finish what they started."
I took a shaky breath. "Then open the door."
Mira hesitated.
"I won't run," I said. "I just want to see for myself."
Her eyes searched mine.
And then, without a word, she stepped to the panel and laid her palm against it. A low hum filled the room as the door slowly slid open.
Behind it—darkness.
But not just any darkness.
It pulsed. Like a heartbeat.
We stepped forward slowly.
And then we saw him.
A boy. No older than ten. Floating inside a glass chamber, glowing faintly, eyes closed.
"Who is he?" James whispered.
Mira's voice cracked for the first time. "My brother."
I didn't follow them into the chamber.
Not at first.
Because I was already where I needed to be.
Right beside Felix.
His face was pale now—too pale—and his breathing came in shallow gasps. James had tried everything: pressure, warmth, wrapping his leg again. But nothing was stopping the fever. It was spreading through him like fire.
I knelt next to him, my knees scraping against the cold stone floor.
"Hey," I whispered, brushing my fingers against his cheek. "You don't get to leave now, okay? Not after all the lies. Not after what you dragged me into."
He didn't move.
I leaned closer, my voice shaking. "You were supposed to be the annoying one. The one who always pushed too far, asked too many questions. I wasn't supposed to… feel this way."
My hand found his. Cold. Clammy.
And I held it tightly.
"You're going to be okay, Felix. You have to be. I'll drag you out of this place myself if I have to."
Behind me, I could hear the others speaking, but their voices were muffled now. Like the room had closed in, and all I could focus on was the boy lying next to me. The boy who had lied to me, protected me, challenged me—and somehow, without trying, became the one I couldn't lose.
His head shifted slightly. A soft groan.
"Felix?" I leaned in.
His eyes fluttered open, just barely.
"Rosa…"
"I'm here."
He blinked slowly, pupils unfocused. "I didn't want you to get hurt."
I laughed—quiet and cracked. "Too late."
"I was scared… of how you'd look at me. After you knew everything."
I swallowed hard, a thousand things I wanted to say dying on my tongue. All I could manage was:
"You're an idiot."
His lips twitched. A faint smile. "I missed you too."
My heart ached.
This boy. This stupid, broken, brave boy.
"Rest," I said. "I've got you."
He closed his eyes again, but this time, his breathing was steadier. Like he knew I wouldn't leave his side.
And I wouldn't.
Not now.
Not ever.