Elysia couldn't calm down.

  How could she?

  There was someone sitting in front of her—

  Someone wearing the same thick dark purple tunic seen in the footage.

  Someone for whom the Sattira were hunting.

  And worst of all—

  That someone looked exactly like her.

  Elysia’s breath was shaky, her chest tight.

  Her voice came out sharp, accusing, unforgiving.

  Elysia (anger and disbelief filling her words): "What truth?! Why are you here?!"

  Then—her voice broke slightly.

  Her fingers tensed.

  Her hands shook.

  Elysia (whispering, accusing, but deeply hurt): "You… killed my friends."

  The figure stirred slightly.

  Her calm composure wavered just a little.

  She tried to soothe Elysia, to make her understand.

  Figure (gentle, but firm): "Elysia! It’s not like that."

  Elysia (snapping, voice rising, demanding answers): "Then what is it like?! Tell me!"

  The figure exhaled, looking at Elysia intently.

  There was a pause.

  Then—

  Figure (quietly, almost to herself): "I thought this would be easier…"

  Elysia clenched her fists.

  She had enough.

  Elysia (sharp, demanding, pressing forward): "What?! Snap it out. Who are you?!"

  The figure’s lips pressed together.

  She hesitated.

  Then—

  She spoke the truth.

  Figure (calm, steady, unwavering): "You created me."

  Elysia (blinking, confused): "What?!"

  Figure (firmer now, pressing on): "I’m you, Elysia."

  A pause.

  A heavy, deafening silence.

  Elysia stared at her.

  Her heart pounded.

  Her breathing stopped.

  No—that wasn’t possible.

  That couldn’t be possible.

  How could she be her?

  How could she be two?

  She was one.

  She had always been one.

  Her voice came out hollow, disbelieving.

  Elysia (whispering, confused, refusing to accept it): "What?"

  The figure nodded.

  Figure (confirming, absolute): "Yes."

  Elysia felt her world tilt.

  Her fingers dug into the chair’s armrest.

  Her voice was quieter now, almost trembling.

  Elysia (low, shaken): "Okay. Okay. I get it…"

  Then—her voice rose again.

  Elysia (angry, rejecting it, pointing at the door): "GET OUT. NOW."

  But the figure didn't move.

  Her expression remained calm.

  Then—she spoke again.

  Figure (softly, patiently, like explaining to a child): "Elysia, try to understand. You can’t separate from me. And I can’t separate from you."

  Elysia (furious, shouting now, voice shaking with emotion): "ENOUGH. WHOEVER YOU ARE. GET OUT!"

  The figure let out a long sigh.

  Then—she muttered to herself.

  Figure (exasperated, shaking her head): "Oh, stars… how do I make myself understand me?"

  A moment of silence.

  Then—

  The figure sat forward slightly.

  Her expression shifted.

  She had to convince Elysia.

  Figure (calm, trying a different approach): "Look. Let’s try this another way."

  She waited for Elysia to listen.

  Figure (slow, careful): "Ask me questions. Questions that only you know. Secrets that only you hold."

  Elysia’s eyes narrowed.

  Her hands clenched into fists.

  She didn’t trust her.

  But—

  She had to be sure.

  Elysia (warning, deadly tone): "One wrong answer—and I’ll blow you right where you’re sitting."

  The figure nodded.

  Figure (without hesitation, steady): "Agreed."

  Elysia’s breathing slowed.

  She looked at the figure—at herself—directly.

  Then—

  She asked the first question.

  Elysia (testing, firm): "Mum?"

  Figure (without hesitation, smoothly): "Aiaris."

  Elysia’s jaw tightened.

  Okay. Lucky guess.

  She continued.

  Elysia (sharper now): "Who told Mum that I wanted to study?"

  Figure (immediate, no pause): "Rya."

  Elysia’s eyes narrowed.

  That was right.

  She pressed further.

  Elysia (fast, pushing now): "What is Phyin?"

  Figure (coolly, without a second thought): "A purple liquid used for rituals in our Mand."

  Elysia’s breath caught.

  Her fingers curled tighter.

  This was too precise.

  She felt a chill crawl up her spine.

  Her thoughts raced.

  And then—

  A voice cut through them.

  Figure (calmly, knowingly, with a small smile): "I heard what you thought."

  Elysia’s body stiffened.

  Her chest tightened.

  Figure (gently, reassuringly): "I know all of this because I am you."

  Elysia swallowed.

  There was one last question.

  A question that no one else should know.

  Something so deep.

  Something so painful.

  Elysia (soft, careful, a test she was afraid of losing): "What is Virtis’ truth?"

  The figure met her gaze.

  Then—

  She spoke.

  Figure (with certainty, with weight in her voice): "They made the false reality of Valfala."

  Elysia’s heartbeat slowed.

  Figure (continuing, unwavering): "They manipulated the fairies of our Mand. They took their Light. They stole it for themselves."

  Elysia stopped breathing.

  Her body felt numb.

  Her thoughts collapsed in on themselves.

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  Every answer.

  Perfect. Precise.

  Every truth.

  Undeniable.

  And then—

  The figure spoke again.

  Figure (softly, almost gently, completing the thought for her): "And this is why you created me."

  Elysia’s lips parted slightly.

  Her voice came out quiet.

  Elysia (barely a whisper, realization dawning): "To take revenge on Virtis."

  The figure smiled.

  A small, knowing smile.

  Then—

  Elysia spoke a name.

  A name she had imagined long ago.

  A name she had given to the stronger version of herself she once dreamed of.

  Elysia (whispering, with realization, with acceptance): "Fiesa."

  The figure’s smile widened slightly.

  Fiesa.

  Elysia’s own creation.

  Her other self.

  Her revenge.

  Fiesa (softly, gently, as if welcoming her home): "And here I am."

  Fiesa was her creation.

  And now, here she was.

  The stronger version of herself.

  The one she had imagined.

  The one she had willed into existence.

  But how?

  Elysia’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  Elysia (quiet, shaking her head, trying to grasp it all): "How…?"

  Fiesa met her gaze.

  And then—

  She answered.

  Fiesa (calm, steady): "I'm not real."

  Elysia’s eyes narrowed.

  A sharp sting of doubt in her chest.

  Elysia (scoffing, stepping back slightly): "Not real?"

  Fiesa (clarifying, patient): "I mean… right now, I’m not real. But I can take over you. Then—you become me."

  A cold shiver crawled up Elysia’s spine.

  Her fingertips went numb.

  And then—

  She stood up from the chair.

  Fast.

  Jolting upright.

  Her breathing picked up.

  Her mind raced.

  Fiesa lifted her hands slightly, trying to calm her.

  Fiesa (gently, trying to explain further): "Okay. Look at it this way. When I—"

  Elysia spun around.

  Cutting her off.

  Elysia (voice low, sharp, bitter): "No. I get it."

  She exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temples.

  Her thoughts swirled like a storm.

  Elysia (continuing, realization sinking in, her voice shaking slightly): "You take over me. And then this face—" (she motioned to herself) "—becomes Fiesa."

  She let out a shaky breath.

  Elysia (softly, more to herself now): "I get that."

  Fiesa watched her.

  She could hear Elysia’s thoughts.

  Her mind had drifted—

  To her friends.

  Livia and Trigaha.

  The ones who had died.

  The ones she had lost.

  And Fiesa knew—

  It was time for that part of the truth.

  Fiesa (softly, but firm): "I'm sorry."

  Elysia’s chest tightened.

  Fiesa (gently, carefully choosing her words): "I had to kill them."

  A sharp, twisting pain stabbed through Elysia’s heart.

  Fiesa (continuing, softer now): "To protect you."

  Silence.

  A heavy silence.

  Elysia didn’t speak.

  She didn’t move.

  Because—

  She was seeing this from her own view.

  Not Fiesa’s.

  And in her view…

  It wasn’t Fiesa who had killed them.

  It was her.

  Her lips parted slightly.

  Her voice came out hollow. Empty.

  Elysia (whispering, staring blankly at the floor): "No…"

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Her voice broke.

  Elysia (barely audible, trembling): "I… killed them."

  Her body felt heavy.

  Her chest ached.

  And then—

  She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  Tears slipped down her face.

  She buried her face in her hands.

  Her voice barely came out as a whisper.

  Elysia (lost, shaking her head, sobbing softly): "I killed my own friends."

  And she meant it.

  Because Fiesa was her.

  Fiesa stood there.

  Silent.

  Unmoving.

  After a long moment, Elysia lifted her head.

  Her voice was shaky. Unstable. Broken.

  Elysia (weak, pleading, whispering like a child): "Why?"

  Fiesa (quiet, but certain): "Because they knew it was you in the footage."

  Elysia’s breathing hitched.

  Fiesa continued—her tone never wavering.

  Fiesa (soft, but firm): "And I couldn’t risk it."

  Her next words—

  Cut through Elysia like a blade.

  Fiesa (final, absolute): "You could have been taken. You could have been in custody."

  Elysia’s heart clenched.

  Then—

  She snapped.

  Her hands curled into fists.

  Her voice rose—loud and raw.

  Elysia (shouting, furious, sobbing): "SO WHAT?!"

  Tears streamed down her face.

  Her voice cracked midway.

  Elysia (crying, voice breaking with grief): "At least they’d be alive today!"

  Her legs gave in.

  She stumbled back onto the bed.

  And then—

  She broke completely.

  Elysia buried her face in the pillow.

  Her shoulders shook.

  The weight of everything crashed down on her.

  Fiesa watched.

  But she didn’t move closer.

  Didn’t speak.

  Because she knew.

  This was a moment Elysia had to go through alone.

  Then—

  A whisper.

  Muffled.

  Barely heard through the fabric of the pillow.

  Elysia (voice hoarse, choked, broken): "Get away from me."

  She curled up tighter.

  Elysia (weaker now, sobbing into the pillow): "I don’t need you."

  Fiesa didn’t respond.

  Because they both knew—

  That wasn’t true.

  In the campus, the search was intensifying.

  Dyn stood in the center of the courtyard, watching Sattira and Rashily move across the school.

  Every Bych’s hands were being checked.

  One by one.

  No exceptions.

  Dyn’s voice rang through the air.

  Dyn (commanding, sharp, determined): "I want every last Bych of this school checked."

  The Sattira moved swiftly, obeying.

  Then—

  A new voice.

  Calm. Measured.

  Medisa (approaching, skeptical, raising an eyebrow): "You sure you’re not wasting your time?"

  Dyn exhaled sharply, but didn’t turn to face her.

  Dyn (low, firm, focused): "I know what I’m doing."

  She scanned the crowd.

  Her sharp eyes flicking over every face.

  Every hand.

  Looking. Searching.

  Because she knew—

  The Vyshek was here.

  Somewhere.

  Inside this very campus.

  Medisa (arms crossed, unimpressed): "You were sure last time, too."

  Dyn’s jaw tightened.

  Then—

  She turned her head slightly, meeting Medisa’s gaze.

  Dyn (sharp, confident, deadly serious): "And we had her trapped."

  Medisa studied her.

  Then—

  Without another word—

  She turned and walked away.

  Dyn watched her go.

  Then—

  She turned back to the search.

  Her fingers curled slightly.

  Her mind raced.

  Her voice was a whisper—

  Only for herself to hear.

  Dyn (low, threatening, to herself): "Come on… come out, you coward Vyshek."

  Her eyes darkened.

  Her lips pressed together.

  Dyn (voice dropping to a deadly whisper): "This time—I'm not letting you go."

  The room was quiet.

  The storm of emotions had passed—but the wreckage remained.

  Elysia sat up slowly, her body drained from crying.

  Her eyes were red, her breathing uneven.

  And yet—

  Fiesa was still there.

  Sitting in the same chair.

  Unmoving.

  Unwavering.

  She had no more words left.

  Nothing that could fix what she had done.

  But—

  She still wanted to convince Elysia.

  To make her understand.

  To make her accept her.

  Fiesa (softly, guilt heavy in her voice): "I'm sorry… I made you go through this."

  Elysia didn't answer.

  And why would she?

  Fiesa was her creation.

  She owned her.

  She made her.

  Fiesa took a breath and leaned forward slightly.

  Trying to break the silence.

  Fiesa (firm, pressing on, trying to push her forward): "Come on. You’re not planning to sit here like this for eternity, are you?"

  She tilted her head slightly.

  Fiesa (raising an eyebrow, testing her): "We should be practicing the spells of Shrishgic."

  But—

  Elysia didn't move.

  She didn’t flinch.

  She didn’t even blink.

  She just sat there, staring at nothing.

  Fiesa sighed.

  And then—

  She tried a different approach.

  Fiesa (pushing, pressing into her emotions): "Great. So this is how you’re going to take revenge on Virtis?"

  Still—

  Elysia said nothing.

  Then—

  After a long, heavy pause…

  She finally spoke.

  Her voice was flat. Hollow.

  Elysia (staring at the floor, whispering): "You can't make friends, can you?"

  Fiesa froze slightly.

  Then—

  She gave in.

  She shifted, moving from the chair—

  And sat beside Elysia.

  Fiesa (softly, remorsefully, honestly): "No."

  She hesitated—

  Then, quietly, carefully, almost pleading—

  Fiesa (low, sincere): "But… I can be your friend."

  Elysia’s shoulders tensed.

  A sharp sting hit her chest.

  She turned her head slightly—not enough to face Fiesa.

  Just enough to acknowledge her.

  Her voice was still distant. Emotionless.

  Elysia (slow, empty, final): "I don't want you."

  Fiesa closed her eyes for a moment.

  She had expected this.

  She had prepared for this.

  But still—

  It hurt.

  Fiesa (softly, trying to reassure her): "I know how you’re feeling right now."

  Elysia let out a bitter chuckle.

  She turned slightly, her eyes dull, tired.

  Then—

  She whispered.

  Elysia (cold, but broken inside): "Do you even remember their last words?"

  Fiesa paused.

  Then—she nodded.

  Her voice was soft. Honest.

  Fiesa (quietly, sincerely): "They said… you were their best friend."

  Elysia’s chest ached.

  Her fingers curled into the bedsheets.

  Her breath hitched slightly.

  Then—

  Her next words came out shaky.

  Elysia (weak, whispering, struggling to accept it): "And so were you."

  Fiesa’s eyes softened.

  Then—

  She did something unexpected.

  Something Elysia didn’t think she could do.

  She lowered her head.

  She broke her usual calm demeanor.

  And she spoke words filled with regret.

  Fiesa (quiet, honest, raw): "I am sorry."

  A long silence.

  Then—

  Elysia’s lips pressed together tightly as she swallowed back another wave of pain.

  Her voice came out flat.

  Empty.

  Elysia (low, lifeless): "It doesn’t matter now."

  Her hands tightened into fists.

  Her next words came out sharp—self-loathing.

  Elysia (bitter, hollow, condemning herself): "They’re gone. And I… I killed them."

  Fiesa’s expression didn’t change.

  She exhaled softly, looking at her hands.

  Then—

  She spoke the words Elysia didn’t want to hear.

  Fiesa (calm, but firm): "Being strong means you have to give up your feelings."

  Elysia clenched her jaw.

  Her breath hitched slightly.

  Fiesa (continuing, trying to make her see the truth): "You created me for one purpose. To kill and to take revenge."

  A heavy pause.

  Then—

  Her voice lowered.

  Her words came out softer.

  More regretful.

  Fiesa (softly, honest, wishing things were different): "I wish… I could change that."

  Elysia stared forward.

  Her fingers trembled slightly.

  Then—

  She spoke quietly.

  Her voice wasn’t angry anymore.

  Just tired. Worn. Hurt.

  Elysia (whispering, accepting, but bitterly sad): "But I never wanted you to be my dark self."

  Fiesa exhaled slowly.

  Her voice was gentle.

  Fiesa (softly, understanding her pain): "You made me from your rage. From your revenge. From your fear."

  She turned slightly, looking Elysia in the eye.

  Fiesa (serious, absolute, final): "I cannot be pure."

  A brief pause.

  Then—

  Fiesa (gentler, reassuring, trying to comfort her): "The only thing I can do right… is protect you."

  Elysia took this in.

  The words settled.

  And for the first time—

  She understood.

  Elysia let out a slow, shaky breath.

  Then—

  She looked directly at Fiesa.

  And she made a decision.

  Her voice was careful, measured, absolute.

  Elysia (serious, firm, setting rules): "Then promise me."

  Fiesa waited.

  Elysia (continuing, clear and strict): "You will never take control unless I ask you to."

  Fiesa tilted her head slightly.

  She listened closely.

  Elysia’s next words came heavier.

  Elysia (low, steady, commanding): "There will be no Fiesa—unless Elysia asks."

  A pause.

  Then—

  Fiesa smiled softly.

  She extended her hand.

  Her voice was smooth.

  Certain.

  Fiesa (nods, firm, promising): "I promise."

  Elysia studied her.

  Then—

  She shook her own hand.

  A pact was made.

  And as they pulled back—

  Fiesa’s voice softened.

  Fiesa (gently, hopeful, almost pleading): "But please… don’t stop talking to me."

  Elysia exhaled sharply.

  Then—

  A small, sad chuckle escaped her lips.

  Elysia (dryly, teasing, shaking her head slightly): "And you—stop killing."

  They both chuckled lightly.

  A mutual understanding was made.

  Two sides of the same soul.

  Two halves of the same being.

  Darkness and Light.

  Fiesa and Elysia.

  And now—

  They had a new rule to follow.