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Chapter 11 - The Warning at Midnight

Chapter 11: The Warning at Midnight

Quinn returned to his dorm, his body aching from the strain of the transformation. The yellow glow in his eyes had faded to a dull shimmer, and the icy burn of the snowflake mark on his hand had subsided, but a lingering unease twisted in his gut. Tonight had shaken him—he hadn't expected the power to flare so violently, and the fact that it had come close to revealing itself to Darian left him on edge.

He needed answers, and he needed them soon. But for now, rest was the only thing on his mind. He collapsed onto his bed, exhausted, the weight of everything pressing down on him. As he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifted back to the journal hidden beneath his mattress. It held the key to controlling whatever was happening to him—he just had to dig deeper.

"Tomorrow," Quinn muttered to himself. "I'll figure it out tomorrow."

His eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him. He was seconds away from sleep when a faint sound reached his ears—a soft, rhythmic tapping, like the gentle rap of knuckles on glass.

Knock. Knock.

Quinn's eyes snapped open, his heart jumping to life. For a moment, he thought he had imagined it, but then it came again—knock, knock.

His head whipped toward the source of the sound. The window.

Who would be knocking on his window this late? His room was on the second floor, and it wasn't exactly accessible. Every muscle tensed as Quinn slowly rose from his bed, creeping toward the window. His hand hovered over the edge of the curtain, and with a quick motion, he pulled it aside.

Lazarus.

The man was sitted on the narrow ledge just outside, his eyes darting around nervously. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with something far more urgent—his face pale, his expression tight.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, then unlocked the window and pushed it open, the cold night air rushing in.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby. "You shouldn't—"

"I don't have time to explain everything," Lazarus interrupted, his voice low but sharp. He slid inside the room quickly, not waiting for an invitation. "We have a problem. A big one."

Quinn frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Lazarus turned to face him, his eyes locking onto Quinn's with a seriousness that sent a chill down his spine. "Someone tipped off the system. There's word going around that someone's infiltrated the school—someone with abilities. They don't know who it is yet, but they've already started looking. It won't be long before they find you."

Quinn's stomach dropped. "What do you mean, 'infiltrated'? Why would anyone think—"

Lazarus cut him off again, his gaze darting to the door as if he expected someone to burst in at any moment. "I don't know the details, but I know one thing: they're coming for you. This tip wasn't random—it's aimed at someone like you. Someone with power."

Quinn's mind raced, a hundred questions flooding his thoughts. Who could have tipped off the system? Was it Darian? No—Darian didn't know anything. At least, not yet. And why now, just when he was starting to uncover more about his abilities?

Lazarus stepped closer, lowering his voice even more. "Quinn, you need to be careful. If they suspect you, they'll lock you down before you even have a chance to explain yourself. The system doesn't take chances with people like us."

The weight of Lazarus's words sank in quickly. Quinn had seen how the system operated—efficient, ruthless, and unforgiving. If they even had an inkling that he was different, they wouldn't hesitate to detain him, to isolate him until they could figure out what he was.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Do you know who tipped them off?" Quinn asked, his voice tight with urgency.

Lazarus shook his head. "No, but it doesn't matter. The important thing is that you stay under the radar. You've been poking around too much—people are starting to notice. Rhea, the journal, all of it. Someone's put the pieces together, or at least enough to raise suspicion."

Quinn clenched his fists. "I've barely scratched the surface, and they're already onto me?"

Lazarus nodded grimly. "The system doesn't need much to go on. They just need an excuse, and you've given them enough of one."

Quinn's heart pounded in his chest. Everything was unraveling faster than he'd anticipated. He had thought he was being careful, thought he had more time. But it seemed the game was already in motion, and he was a step behind.

"What do I do?" Quinn asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just leave. Not yet."

Lazarus hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the window as if calculating the risk. "You don't have to leave, but you need to wrap this up quickly. Whatever you're doing with the journal, with Rhea, finish it. Find the answers you're looking for, but don't stick around too long after that. The system's eyes are everywhere, and if they focus on you, you're done."

Quinn nodded, his mind working furiously. He couldn't stop now. He was too close to unlocking the secrets of the journal, too close to understanding the power inside him. But Lazarus was right—he needed to be smarter, faster.

"I'll lay low," Quinn said, determination hardening his voice. "But I'm not backing down. I'll find out what's going on, and I'll figure out a way to control this… before it's too late."

Lazarus gave him a hard look. "Good. But be careful, Quinn. You're playing with fire—and ice, apparently. Don't let it consume you."

With that, Lazarus moved back to the window, slipping out onto the ledge with practiced ease. He paused for a moment, glancing back at Quinn. "Watch your back. I'll keep you updated if I hear anything else."

Then, with a final nod, Lazarus disappeared into the shadows, leaving Quinn alone in the cold silence of his dorm room.

Quinn shut the window, locking it behind him. He stared out into the night for a long moment, his pulse still racing. The danger was real now—closer than ever. He had to act fast, before the system tightened its grip.

With a deep breath, Quinn turned back toward his bed. The journal was still waiting beneath the mattress, its secrets hidden within. He would dive deeper than ever tonight, push the boundaries of what he had learned so far. There was no more time for caution.

The clock was ticking, and the system was closing in.

But Quinn was ready to face whatever was coming.