The mask hovered in front of Lina like a crown offered by a guillotine.
Porcelain, pale as bone, carved with runes that shimmered faintly—beautiful in the way venom is beautiful.
LINA VERIS.
Her name.
Etched into it as if the mask had always belonged to her.
Kai strained against the chains, Shadowsteel flaring in pulses of gold-thread darkness.
"Lina—don't touch it!" he rasped.
The Veilbound stood in a half-circle, still as statues, their own masks reflecting a thousand distorted Lina faces off the corridor walls.
And from behind the offered mask came that voice again—soft, familiar, wrong.
"Mira did well."
Lina's stomach turned.
"Jax," she whispered.
The corridor's reflective walls rippled.
The voice laughed gently, as if she'd said something adorable.
"Oh, Lina," it murmured. "Still trying to name the shape of the knife."
Seren stepped closer, eyes glowing with Soul Echo intensity. "That's not Jax."
Reyon sucked in a sharp breath. "Thank you, Seren. Really helpful. I was definitely about to invite him to brunch."
Seren's gaze locked onto the mask. "It's an identity script. I can hear it vibrating. It's like… a written self."
Lina's palms went cold even as her flame burned hot.
"A written self?" she repeated.
Seren nodded, voice shaking. "If you wear it, it will overwrite your resonance signature. Your memories. Your… choices."
Reyon's eyebrows shot up. "So it's like a cursed social media filter."
Kai snarled, "It's worse."
Lina kept her eyes on the mask. "Then why offer it?"
The voice behind the porcelain softened.
"Because you're stubborn," it said. "And stubborn girls need a reason to cooperate."
The mask drifted closer.
Lina did not reach for it.
She took one step back.
The corridor punished her instantly.
The reflective floor flashed a circle of runes beneath her shoes, and gravity turned mean—yanking her knees toward the ground like invisible hands were trying to force her to kneel.
Lina hissed, flame flaring to steady herself.
"Kai!" she snapped, breath tight. "What is this place?"
Kai's jaw clenched. "The Mask Room. It's where they bind identities to keys."
Lina's heart slammed. "Keys."
Kai's eyes—one normal, one blurred—met hers.
"They're using me," he said, voice rough. "They're turning my oath into a lockpick for what's below the academy."
Below.
Kai's warning from the tether.
Lina's ribs burned as if the word had claws.
Seren whispered, horrified, "The cage."
Reyon stared at the Veilbound. "So the cult wants to open the ancient hungry thing under our school. Normal teen experience."
The voice behind the mask sighed, almost bored.
"Keys require pairing," it said. "A lock requires two hands. Flame and shadow."
Lina's breath stopped.
It wasn't just taking Kai.
It was making him part of her.
Making their bond into a tool.
Kai's chains tightened.
He gasped, shoulders jerking as if the corridor itself was pulling him into alignment with the mask's runes.
Lina stepped forward instinctively—and the mask lifted higher, like it sensed her.
Kai snapped, "Don't come closer!"
Lina's flame trembled in her hands.
"You're chained," she whispered. "I'm not leaving you in here."
Kai's laugh was sharp and broken. "You shouldn't have come."
Reyon's eyes widened. "Kai, that was the worst romantic line I've ever heard."
Kai didn't look away from Lina. His voice turned quieter, urgent.
"They're going to make you put it on."
Lina swallowed hard. "Then I won't."
Seren shook her head slightly, eyes wide. "They might not need your hands to force it. The room can—"
The Veilbound moved.
Not lunging.
Not rushing.
They stepped closer in perfect synchronization, silent as prayer.
Their masks turned toward Lina like a row of judges.
The offered mask drifted even nearer.
Lina's name glowed.
Reyon's voice cracked. "Okay. If we're doing cursed costume accessories, I would like to formally decline."
He snapped his fingers.
A real illusion flared into existence—a duplicate of Lina, made of clean light and confident posture.
It looked so real that Lina herself blinked.
Reyon grinned weakly. "Decoy Lina. She's brave. She's charming. She doesn't forget her own name mid-stress."
Seren stared. "Reyon, if the room reads intention—"
"It'll grab the decoy," Reyon said quickly. "That's the intention. That's the plan. Please don't tell the room my plan, Seren."
The decoy Lina stepped forward, chin lifted.
The offered mask tilted—interested.
For a heartbeat, Lina thought it worked.
The mask drifted toward the decoy.
Then the corridor's reflective walls shimmered…
…and the decoy's face melted.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
Like the room rejected the lie.
The decoy's eyes went blank. Its smile froze.
Then it turned its head toward Reyon—slow and wrong—and spoke in Lina's voice:
"You can't forge truth here."
Reyon's face went pale. "Okay. That's rude."
The decoy shattered into light.
The Veilbound didn't move.
They didn't have to.
The room was the weapon.
Seren stepped closer to Lina, voice trembling. "The masks aren't just scripts. They're anchors. If they bind one to you, it becomes hard to remove—like carving a new you into place."
Kai's blurred side flickered, his body trembling as if the chains were pulling him between versions of himself.
Lina's tether burned in her bones.
She reached toward Kai instinctively—touch anchors reality—then stopped, remembering the warning: kisses and surges trigger locks.
This room didn't need a kiss.
It needed a bond.
It needed a touch at the wrong time.
Kai's voice turned harsh with fear. "Lina. Don't touch me."
Lina's eyes stung. "I have to."
Kai shook his head, panicked. "You don't understand. If you touch me, the room might—"
The voice behind the mask cut in, calm as a knife sliding into water.
"Complete the pair."
Kai flinched as if the words had weight.
The Veilbound lifted their hands in unison.
The runes on their robes lit.
The corridor hummed louder.
Seren gasped. "They're syncing the room to Lina's tether."
Lina's ribs burned hot—so hot she could taste metal.
She doubled slightly, clutching her side.
"Kai," she whispered, voice breaking. "I can't— I can't lose you."
Kai's eyes locked onto hers, fierce.
"Then don't lose yourself," he rasped. "Fight smart."
Lina swallowed.
Her flame rose—gold, trembling.
"Tell me how."
Kai exhaled shakily.
"Name Test," he said. "On the room. On the masks. On everything."
Lina blinked. "How do you Name Test a room?"
Kai's mouth twitched, even in pain.
"You make it answer," he rasped. "And rooms like this… can't."
Lina turned toward the offered mask.
Her voice sharpened.
"Say my name," she commanded.
The mask hovered, runes glowing.
The voice behind it chuckled.
"You already know your name."
"Say it," Lina snapped. "Say my name and stay real."
The corridor shuddered.
The Veilbound froze for the first time.
The mask trembled.
And from behind it, the voice paused—caught.
It didn't answer.
It couldn't.
Because the room wasn't a person.
It was a spell pretending it had a mouth.
Seren's eyes widened. "It can't pass."
Lina's flame flared brighter.
"Good," Lina whispered. "Then it's a lie."
The corridor screamed.
Mirrors flashed.
The runes on the mask blazed.
And Kai's chains tightened violently.
Kai cried out, dropping to one knee.
Lina's heart shattered.
"Kai!"
The voice behind the mask turned colder.
"Then we take a different route," it murmured.
The reflective wall behind Kai brightened.
Letters began to carve themselves into the glass—slow, deliberate, like a blade writing on stone.
A name.
Kai's name.
KAI RHEN
Then the letters began to blur.
To smear.
To erase.
Kai gasped, eyes wide with terror.
"They're—" he choked. "They're erasing me."
Lina's blood ran ice cold.
Seren whispered, horrified, "If his name is erased here… the academy won't remember him out there."
Reyon's voice shook. "Like he never existed."
The offered mask drifted to Lina's hands again.
The voice behind it softened, almost gentle.
"Put it on," it murmured. "And we stop the erasure."
Lina's throat tightened until she couldn't breathe.
Kai's name continued to fade.
KAI—
KA—
K—
Lina's hands shook.
Her flame trembled.
Her bone-tether burned like a screaming nerve.
And the voice whispered, sweet as poison:
"Put on the mask… or watch him vanish."
To be Continued© Kishtika., 2025
All rights reserved.