The campus didn’t sleep that night.Phones lit every window, screens glowing against the storm-dark glass. Videos spread before the rain had even dried from the quad stones. Grainy footage of cloaked Watchers bowing. The fissures burning gold. The Dean raising her hand. And above it all, Eli on the roof, backlit by lightning, the Eye’s mark glowing like a brand on his skin.By dawn, the whole Crest knew his name.The Keeper.Whispers became shouts. Students clustered in hallways, dorm lobbies, stairwells, passing theories as if they were trading contraband.“He summoned the Eye.”“He stopped it.”“He controls it.”“No—he’s possessed. Didn’t you see his face?”Rumors spread faster than the truth could keep up. And truth itself was fractured, no two stories the same.Lena sat at Eli’s side in his dorm, arms folded, jaw tight. Every few seconds, another buzz came from his desk—another text, another missed call. People demanding answers. People begging for help.Eli didn’t touch his phone

The rain was coming down so hard it blurred everything into streaks of silver. Eli barely felt it. His arm throbbed with every heartbeat, the mark glowing faintly even through his soaked sleeve. Each pulse was a reminder of what he’d just faced, what he’d just rejected. The Eye wasn’t gone. It was there, inside the marrow of his bones, seething, watching.Behind them, the chapel burned. Flames licked out through shattered windows, mingling with the storm. The ancient stone groaned as if it didn’t know whether to collapse or stand, and the muffled roar of voices spilled out—students, Watchers, guards. A war had started in that chapel, and it wasn’t going to stay contained.Lena grabbed his wrist, forcing him to focus. Her hair stuck to her face, her hoodie plastered to her skin, but her eyes burned. “Eli, you can’t stop now. Do you understand? Everyone saw you refuse. Everyone saw you break their ritual. They won’t let that go.”He shook his head, stumbling as Callum pulled him along t

The bells stopped, but their echo lingered in the bones of the building. Eli’s ears rang long after the sound died, like the vibrations had carved themselves into his skull. Students around him exchanged nervous glances, voices rising in uneasy whispers, but no one moved for the door. They were waiting for him.He hated it.Lena’s hand pressed lightly against his shoulder, a reminder that he wasn’t standing alone. But even her presence couldn’t ease the knot in his stomach. He had lit the spark in this room, and now it burned hotter than he could control.He forced his breathing steady and faced the crowd. “We don’t know what those bells mean yet. But we do know this—they’re watching, and they want us afraid. Don’t give them what they want.”A few students nodded. Others clutched each other’s hands, like the words were the only thing holding them together.From the corner, Callum spoke for the first time since the chimes. “We need a plan before they come for us.” His voice carried eas

The first scream was so sharp it cut through the fire alarm.Eli spun, heart hammering, the red strobe lights throwing jagged shadows down the long west wing corridor. Students were spilling out of their dorm rooms, some barefoot, some clutching phones, others frozen mid-step as if they couldn’t comprehend what was happening. The air smelled like burning wires, metallic and thick, and every light overhead flickered as though on the verge of exploding.“Move!” Callum barked, shoving past a group of freshmen who were staring wide-eyed at the far end of the hall. His usual calculated calm was gone; his face was hard with urgency. Lena grabbed Eli’s arm and pulled him with her as the crowd broke into a panicked stampede.At first, Eli thought it was smoke rolling in from the corridor ahead. But then the shapes began to form. Cloaked figures, tall and faceless, moving with a weight that bent the air around them. The Watchers. They didn’t walk—they glided, their presence rippling through th

The rain had stopped by the time they made it out of the west wing, but the air outside was still heavy, charged, as if the storm hadn’t truly ended. The quad was lit by emergency lamps that flickered uneasily, casting the spires of the Crest in crooked shadows. Students huddled in clusters on the wet grass, their faces pale, voices trembling. Some sobbed openly; others sat in stunned silence, staring at their soaked uniforms and the smoke curling from shattered windows of the wing they had just escaped.Eli felt every gaze as he walked through them. It wasn’t just fear—it was recognition. Whispers chased him like gnats, slipping from mouth to mouth: his name, his family, his mark. He wanted to snarl back, to remind them that he hadn’t asked for this, that he’d been dragged into it like all of them. But deep down he knew it wouldn’t matter. He had stood before the creature. He had stopped it, even if only for a moment. They had seen him command what no one else could. That was enough