The door of the Blackwood house slammed shut behind her with a finality that echoed down the quiet street.
Seraphina stood there for a moment, the cool morning air brushing against her skin, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers from a neighbour's garden.
Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from a rush of liberation.
The slaps she had delivered to Isolde and Morgana still tingled on her palm, a reminder that she was no longer the girl they could push around.
[Finally out. No more pretending. But where to now? The mansion. Nadia and Sasha will have everything ready.]
She walked a little farther, her steps deliberate, putting more distance between herself and the toxic life she had just escaped.
The neighbourhood was waking up—birds chirping, a distant car engine rumbling to life.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers steady as she dialled Harlan.
"Harlan, it's me," she said when he answered, her voice calm but firm.
"Miss, good morning. Everything alright?" Harlan's tone was professional, but there was a hint of concern.
He had been her driver for years, loyal through the shadows of her secret life, never asking too many questions.
"Yes. Pick me up at the corner. We're heading to the mansion."
"On my way. Two minutes."
She pocketed the phone and leaned against a tree, watching the world go by.
A jogger passed, nodding politely.
[They have no idea who I am. But soon, maybe they will.]
The black car pulled up smoothly, and she slid into the back seat.
The leather was cool and familiar, a small comfort.
"Home, Harlan. And take the scenic route if you can. I need to think."
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes kind. "Understood. Rough morning?"
"You could say that." She leaned back, closing her eyes briefly.
The system— Astra Codex—lingered in her mind like a puzzle.
It had given her this chance, but why? And those dreams... flashes of knives and shadows from her past life.
[One step at a time. First, settle in, then plan the scripts.]
As the car merged into traffic, her phone buzzed.
She fished it out, expecting nothing important.
But the message was from an unknown number.
No text, just a picture: a grand hotel ballroom, alive with lights and elegant figures, chandeliers casting a golden glow.
At the bottom, a simple note: "Your path begins here tonight. Grand Eclipse Hotel. Don't ignore the call."
[What? The system again? Or someone else?]
She zoomed in, her big blue eyes narrowing.
The image showed people in fancy attire, laughing, and toasting.
It looked like a gala, the kind where deals were made in whispers.
Her pulse quickened.
[Destiny? Or a trap? Either way, it's intriguing.]
"Change of plans, Harlan," she said, her voice steady. "Take me to the Grand Eclipse Hotel instead."
He raised an eyebrow but didn't question. "As you wish. It's about half an hour from here."
The drive wound through the city, past towering buildings and bustling markets.
Eldoria pulsed with energy—vendors calling out, screens flashing ads for the latest movies and songs.
Seraphina watched it all, her mind spinning.
[If this is a sign, I'll follow it. No more hiding.]
They arrived at the hotel, a majestic structure of gleaming glass and stone that rose like a beacon against the skyline.
Harlan pulled up to the entrance. "Shall I wait?"
"No, go on. I'll handle things from here." She stepped out, smoothing her skirt.
The sun caught her red hair, making it shimmer like rubies.
As she entered the lobby, a wave of silence rippled through the space.
Heads turned—guests at the seating areas, staff behind counters, even the doorman paused.
Her beauty was the kind that stopped time: long, wavy red hair framing a face with porcelain skin, big blue eyes that held depths of ocean and storm, full lips curved in quiet confidence.
But it was more than looks; she carried an aura, commanding and edged with danger, like a queen who could wield a sword as easily as a smile.
Whispers started. "Who is that? She looks like one of those movie stars."
A family nearby stared in awe.
The mother murmured to her husband, "Such grace. I wish I had that poise."
Their two kids, a boy and a girl around eight, gawked openly.
The girl tugged free and scampered over, her eyes wide. "Miss, you're so pretty! Like a fairy from the stories. Can I be like you someday?"
Seraphina knelt down, her skirt fanning out, and smiled warmly, her blue eyes softening. "Of course you can, little one. Just be brave and kind. What's your name?"
"Emma," the girl beamed.
"Well, Emma, keep dreaming big." She patted the girl's shoulder gently.
The boy joined, shy but excited. "Yeah, you're cooler than the heroes in the films! I wanna have hair like that."
Seraphina laughed, a light, melodic sound. "Thank you. Work hard, and you'll have your own adventures."
The parents approached, smiling apologetically. "Sorry to bother you. They just... you're inspiring."
"No bother at all," she replied, standing gracefully.
The lobby buzzed again, people wishing they could capture her essence—admiration mixed with a touch of envy, and that subtle danger making them keep a respectful distance.
She made her way to the reception desk, where a young woman with a neat bun and a name tag reading "Mia" looked up, her professional smile turning genuine.
Mia was bubbly, in her mid-twenties, with freckles and an eager energy.