"How do you run from the past when it surrounds you at every turn? How when the scariest prisons are the ones without walls, the ones built of questions with no answers."
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Juno stood frozen in the aisle, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Her voice, strained and trembling, still echoed in the quiet room. The teacher—a graying, disinterested woman—arched an eyebrow. "Miss Luminara," she said, her tone edged with impatience, "sit down before I have to call your dean."
But Juno couldn't sit. She couldn't even breathe properly.
She clutched the edge of her desk for support, her knees threatening to buckle. Her scarlet and black skirt rustled as she shifted. The uniform she hadn't worn in years felt too tight, too stifling, as if someone had stitched the fabric to her skin.
This wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
"Juno!" A voice, high-pitched and brimming with artificial cheer, cut through her spiral.
Her head snapped toward it.
Maeve.
Bright pink hair, bold lipstick, and an overenthusiastic smile stretched across her face, Maeve was leaning forward from her desk. The same Maeve who had always been a whirlwind of energy and noise, bouncing from one trend to the next. The same Maeve who had died—during the thunderwolf's rampage.
But here she was, alive, waving at Juno as though nothing had ever happened.
"Earth to Juno! Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Maeve said, her tone half-mocking, half-concerned.
Before Juno could respond, a pair of identical voices joined in unison from the row behind her.
"Maybe she's finally cracked," said one.
"About time," said the other.
Riley and Theo.
The twins were lounging in their seats, their matching grins sharp and wolfish, their blonde hair styled to perfection. They looked like golden boys, the type who could charm their way out of trouble, but Juno knew better. Underneath the charisma and easy laughter, they were manipulative, cruel, and calculating.
And yet, they were also dead. She had seen them as corpse, their screams still etched into her memory.
Her stomach churned.
"Are you okay, Juno?" Maeve asked again, her voice dripping with faux concern.
Juno stared at them, her heart pounding in her chest. This couldn't be happening. She had watched these people die. She remembered their deaths—the blood, the chaos, the sheer hopelessness of it all.
But now, they were here, alive and whole, acting as if everything was normal.
"Juno?" Maeve pressed, her bright eyes narrowing.
Juno staggered back a step. "This… this isn't real," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
The teacher slammed a hand on the desk. "Miss Luminara! If you don't take your seat—"
But Juno wasn't listening. She bolted for the door, shoving it open with trembling hands and stumbling into the hallway.
The air outside the classroom was crisp and clean, the corridors lined with polished lockers that gleamed under fluorescent lights. A faint hum of activity echoed from distant classrooms—voices murmuring, chairs scraping, the occasional burst of laughter.
It was all so… normal.
Too normal.
"Selene? Exos?" Juno called, her voice cracking. She spun around, searching the empty corridor for any sign of them. "Where are you?"
Her hands gripped her sides as her breathing quickened. This had to be some sort of illusion—a trick of the Void Lord. Agredor. His name reverberated in her skull like a warning bell.
She remembered his words, his malevolent ambition to seize control of memories and use them to erase minds. Was this his doing? Was she trapped in some fragmented reflection of her own past?
"Juno!" Maeve's voice rang out behind her.
Juno turned to see Maeve, Riley, and Theo stepping into the hallway. Maeve's concerned smile faltered as she got closer. "What's gotten into you? You're acting super weird."
"Weird?" Juno's voice cracked with disbelief. "You're dead. All three of you. You died at the café during the thunderwolf attack. I saw it happen!"
For a brief moment, their expressions shifted—confusion, unease, and something darker flickered in their eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by practiced smiles.
"Someone's been watching too many horror movies," Riley said with a smirk.
Theo nodded, grinning. "Or reading one of those grimdark novels she's always obsessed with."
Juno took a step back. She could feel her grip on reality slipping, the lines between past and present blurring in ways that made her head spin.
"Stop it," she snapped. "Stop pretending like everything is fine. I know what I saw!"
Maeve's smile faltered completely now, replaced with something cold and calculating. "Juno, maybe you should lie down. You're not making any sense."
Juno shook her head, her vision swimming. She felt like she was suffocating, the air too thick, the lights too bright. "No… no, this isn't right. None of this is right."
She turned and ran, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
She searched every corner of the school, calling out for Selene and Exos, but there was no sign of them. The more she searched, the more the panic clawed at her chest.
This wasn't a dream. It wasn't a memory. It was something else entirely, something twisted and wrong.
She stopped in front of a mirror in the bathroom, gripping the edges of the sink as she stared at her reflection. Her uniform was spotless, her hair neatly combed, her face free of the dirt and grime that had clung to her after the battle with Agredor.
She looked like a stranger.
"Why am I here?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
The mirror offered no answers, only her own haunted eyes staring back at her.
Suddenly, the faint hum of the school's lights grew louder, a low, oppressive drone that seemed to vibrate through her skull. The ground beneath her feet trembled, and she stumbled back, gripping the sink for support.
And then, just as suddenly, the noise stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Juno took a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "What's happening to me?"
But there was no one to answer her.
Juno leaned against the sink, her knuckles turning white as she gripped its edges. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tried to calm the pounding in her chest.
"System?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Nothing.
Her HUD didn't appear, no blinking status updates, no comforting readouts of [Chronoenergy: 56%] or [Status: Stable]. It was as if the system itself had been wiped clean, leaving her naked and vulnerable.
She clenched her fists and tried again, her voice firmer this time. "Aspect of Time, I call upon you."
The silence in the bathroom was deafening, broken only by the faint dripping of a faucet. No surge of power, no echoing voice in her mind.
Her heart sank.
"Chronosword," she said desperately, holding her hand out as if the blade would materialize in her grip. "Come to me!"
But her hand remained empty, her reflection mocking her futile attempts.
Panic clawed at the edges of her mind. Everything that had defined her, every ounce of power she had wielded as the Timekeeper, was gone. She was just… Juno. A scared girl in a school uniform, trapped in a reality that made no sense.
"Okay," she muttered, forcing herself to take deep breaths. "Okay, calm down. Think. This… this must be real. Right?"
She pinched her arm, hard enough to leave a red welt. The sting was sharp, grounding her for a moment. "I felt that," she murmured. "This is real. This has to be real."
Her gaze drifted back to the mirror. Her reflection stared back, but something about it was… wrong. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but the longer she looked, the more unease coiled in her stomach.
Her reflection's eyes seemed a fraction too bright, its expression a beat slower than her own. When she tilted her head, the mirrored version followed a fraction of a second too late.
Juno's heart skipped a beat. "What the hell?"
She leaned closer, studying her reflection with narrowed eyes. The fluorescent lights above flickered faintly, casting strange shadows across the glass. For a moment, she thought she saw something—a ripple, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a single drop of water.
And then it was gone.
"Get it together, Juno," she muttered, stepping back from the mirror. "You're seeing things."
But the unease lingered.
She turned and walked out of the bathroom, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more absurd than the last.
Is this a timeline? A new reality? An alternate dimension?
None of it made sense.
Juno shook her head, trying to focus. She needed answers, and if this was real—if this was truly her reality now—then she had to figure out the rules. There were always rules, always patterns to exploit.
Her hands brushed against her uniform skirt as she walked, the sensation grounding her. The world felt so solid, so tangible. The air smelled faintly of floor polish and chalk dust. The hum of the lights overhead buzzed in her ears.
If this is real… then why do I remember everything?
She reached the door to the stairwell and paused. Her mind drifted to her dorm room, her sanctuary during her time at Aetherion Ivy League Academy. If this was her old life, her dorm should still be there.
The thought of returning to that familiar space filled her with a strange mix of dread and longing.
The walk to her dorm was eerily quiet. The hallways were empty, the faint hum of distant conversations and laughter muted, as if the school itself was holding its breath.
As she climbed the stairs, her memories drifted back to her time here. Late-night cram sessions, whispered conversations with Maeve about boys and dreams, the twins' infuriating pranks that had left her seething.
And then… the café. The thunderwolf. The screams.
She shook her head, trying to push the memories away.
By the time she reached her dorm, her hands were trembling. She hesitated in front of the door, her fingers hovering over the handle.
"Just open it," she whispered to herself. "It's just a room. It's your room."
She pushed the door open.
The sight that greeted her was painfully familiar. The bed was neatly made, the desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks. Her favorite constellation-patterned blanket was draped over the chair, and the faint scent of lavender from her diffuser lingered in the air.
She stepped inside, her fingers brushing against the edge of the desk. Everything was exactly as she remembered it, down to the half-empty cup of tea she'd forgotten to clean up.
But something felt… off.
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for anything out of place. At first, she found nothing. But then, tucked between her textbooks, she spotted a small slip of paper.
Her heart raced as she picked it up. The handwriting was elegant, almost too perfect, and the words sent a chill down her spine:
"Memory is a prison. Do not trust it."
Juno stared at the note, her pulse pounding in her ears.
"What does this mean?" she whispered.
She sat down on the edge of her bed, clutching the note in her trembling hands. Her mind raced with questions, each one more terrifying than the last.
Was this a clue? A warning? Or just another piece of the puzzle Agredor had left behind?
The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn't trust anything—not her surroundings, not her memories, not even herself.