"You lucky forest-date fraud! You—"
"Jamie, shut up." Quinn's voice cut through the connection like a blade.
Noah sighed and quickly composed himself. Lumi blinked up at him curiously.
"It's nothing," Noah said, forcing a chuckle. "Just a… uh, fantasy game we're playing. Roleplay stuff."
Lumi tilted her head. "A game? Like magic and monsters?"
"Exactly."
She laughed. "Really? Magic? Come on. You guys take these games seriously."
"What? Magic exists?!" Jamie screamed through the screen.
Noah and Quinn glared daggers at him. "Shut. Up."
Jamie covered his mouth, realizing his mistake. The look on Quinn's face was pure murder.
Lumi, however, giggled and waved off the topic, already back to pointing her camera at a butterfly that landed on her sleeve.
Noah let out a breath. That was way too close.
"Infuriating as he is," Quinn said, his voice low through the phone, "Jamie's right. Monsters exist. That thing at the church—maybe more. We still haven't proven if magic's real… but it's not off the table."
"That's your goal, isn't it?" Noah said. "That's why you're digging around again."
Quinn didn't deny it.
"And Jamie's just tagging along because he's bored at home."
"Also true!" Jamie gave a thumbs-up in the corner.
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. "We promised to stop investigating. To stay out of it."
"Did you?" Quinn raised a brow. "Because you're still digging too. Aren't you?"
Noah's silence was answer enough.
Jamie, suddenly serious, added, "Just promise Ezra and our sisters won't find out."
Noah hesitated, then sighed. "Ezra already knows. She's part of it."
Jamie just shrugged like it was inevitable. "Well. That's not surprising."
Noah leaned in. "Anyway, why the call?"
Jamie and Quinn exchanged a look, then rotated the camera. What they showed wasn't a door. It was a mirror—freestanding, old, covered in cracks and moss, like it had been there for centuries. The frame was intricate, golden with etchings that pulsed faintly.
Noah's stomach dropped. "Is that in the basement?!"
Quinn shook his head. "No. It's… somewhere else. We don't know yet. We were following a weird heat signature and—"
Suddenly, the screen went black.
"Quinn? Jamie?!" Noah shouted. "Answer!"
Nothing.
He stood frozen, clutching his phone, trying to piece together what he had just seen. They'd found another shard—he felt it. And he had no way of getting to them. Not until the trip ended.
He had to talk to Ezra. They needed to regroup. Fast.
But before he could turn, someone tugged at his shirt.
Lumi.
"What now—?"
His voice died.
She pointed, trembling, toward the mist rising at the edge of the woods.
Noah turned.
A tree was smiling at them.
Not just a tree—it moved, its gnarled roots slithering across the dirt like twisted fingers. Its bark twisted and peeled into a grotesque humanoid face, and its eyes were etched hollows full of dark glee.
Lumi screamed, stumbling backward as it crept toward them.
But Noah didn't move. His gaze went past the tree.
Something else was there.
In the mist behind it, a shadow shifted.
A giant figure, cloaked in thick fog, loomed above the crawling tree. Its eyes—huge and pink—glowed like dying stars. The tree froze in mid-crawl, its bark face contorting into sudden dread.
Even the monster knew true fear.
---
Elsewhere, in the camp clearing
"You're special, you know," the voice purred. "I can see the shards of your past clinging to you like dust."
Ezra stood frozen as the children around her sat silently in rows, eyes glazed, as if entranced.
Headteacher Marlowe—or what wore her skin—hovered inches away, her green eyes shimmering too brightly, too alien. Her shadow stretched unnaturally far, covering the circle of students like a looming hand.
Ezra's fingers curled into fists.
"Who are you?" she hissed.
The woman smiled, too wide. "Not just your past… but the boy's, too. You've both looked into a shard. I felt it. Master will be so pleased."
"Master?" Ezra's heartbeat surged.
Marlowe raised a hand. Mist coiled from her fingers like ink in water, slithering through the air. It wrapped around Ezra's arms and chest, freezing cold.
Fear gripped her—but another emotion surged up through it.
Anger.
Defiance.
The voice in her head—the one she had forgotten, the one that echoed with familiarity—rose again.
> "If you don't want to die, you have to fight."
Ezra gritted her teeth and glared back.
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Oh?" the imposter whispered. "Then let's test that."
The mist thickened. The shadow behind the woman shifted, and the ground cracked beneath her.
Ezra's eyes widened.