Roger was still bleeding.
The air around them had gone cold again — colder than before. The library lights flickered weakly, casting ghostly shapes across the shelves. Every breath felt heavy, every second stretching into forever.
Samy pressed her hands against Roger's wound, whispering, "Don't close your eyes. Please don't…"
Jet tore more pieces of fabric from her sleeve to help, but the blood kept coming, warm and endless.
Kim stood guard, scanning the darkness. He could feel something — a chill brushing past his shoulder. Someone was there. Watching. Waiting.
He turned slowly.
And there it was.
The same ghost. The same hollow-eyed student, standing right beside him.
Kim stepped back, fists clenched — but before he could move, Roger's hand shot out and stopped the knife the ghost was holding.
Her fingers clamped around the blade, blood dripping from her palm. Her eyes, once weak and distant, now burned with fury.
"Not again," she hissed through her teeth.
The ghost struggled, trying to pull the knife free, but Roger held tighter. The steel groaned under her grip, and then—
CRACK.
The knife shattered into pieces, scattering across the floor.
The ghost staggered back, its mouth open in a silent scream. Roger didn't stop. She kicked it — hard.
This time, the ghost actually felt it.
It flew backward, crashing into a bookshelf. The shelves shook violently, books raining down as the creature dissolved into smoke.
And then it was gone.
The silence that followed felt endless.
Roger swayed where she stood, her breathing shallow. Then she collapsed, falling into Kim's arms.
"Roger!" Kim caught her, his voice breaking. He lowered himself to the floor, holding her close.
Her skin was cold, her blood soaking through his shirt.
"Stay with me," he whispered. "Please, stay with me."
The others stood around them, helpless. Tin clenched his fists, staring at the floor. Samy and Jet were already crying, tears spilling as they clung to each other.
It hit all of them at once — the feeling that they were losing this fight. Losing her. Losing themselves.
Roger's lips trembled. Her voice came out in a faint whisper.
"I… love you, Kim."
Kim's eyes filled instantly. "Don't say that. You're gonna be fine."
But she kept going, her voice weak but steady. "I love you… all of you."
Her bloodied hand reached toward Samy, then Jet, then fell limp.
Kim pulled her closer, his tears falling onto her face. "No, no, no, don't you dare…"
He kissed her — soft, desperate, trembling. He didn't care about the blood, or the cold, or the silence. He just held her like she was the only thing real in the whole world.
The others turned away, unable to watch but unable to move.
Then — a sound filled the room.
A deep, echoing voice — the same voice that had haunted them since the maze.
But this time… it didn't sound angry.
It sounded sad.
"She still breathes," the voice said softly.
"You can still save her."
Kim looked up, eyes wild. "Who are you? Help her! Please!"
"I will keep her safe," the voice continued. "But you must find the way. Choose wisely… and she may return."
Roger's body lifted gently from Kim's arms, rising into the air. A faint golden light surrounded her, soft and pulsing like a heartbeat. Her hair flowed upward, her wounds glowing faintly as if time had paused around her.
Kim reached for her, but the light pushed his hand back. "No! Don't take her! Don't—"
"She will live," the voice said. "If you follow the right path."
Then, with a final shimmer, Roger vanished — the light folding into itself and disappearing into the air.
The silence that followed felt like a wound.
Kim dropped to his knees, staring at the space where she had been. His hands were still stained with her blood.
"She's gone…" he whispered.
Tony knelt beside him, gripping his shoulder. "No. Not gone. The voice said she's alive. Somewhere."
Samy wiped her tears. "Then we have to find her. Whatever it takes."
Jet stood, looking around at the endless walls of the haunted library. "The voice said we need to choose the right book."
Kim slowly rose to his feet, still trembling. His voice was quiet but certain. "Then we find it. We find the one that leads to her."
They all turned toward the shelves again. Hundreds of books lined the rows, each covered in dust, each whispering faintly. Some shimmered faintly when the light touched them — as if alive.
Tin stepped closer to one of the shelves. "Every book leads to a new world," he murmured, remembering the words they'd seen carved into the wood. "But which one leads to hers?"
Samy ran her fingers across the spines of the books, reading faded titles: Echoes of the Past. The Silent Corridor. The Missing Tune.
Jet shivered. "It's like they're watching us."
Kim clenched his fists, staring at the shelves. "Then we don't wait for them to choose us."
He pulled a book from the top shelf — the oldest, dustiest one. The title barely readable:
"The Lost Symphony."
As soon as he opened it, the pages began to glow. Wind whipped through the library, scattering papers and dust.
The ground shook again. The books trembled. The shelves cracked.
The voice returned — faint, distant, echoing through the chaos.
"Find the rhythm… and you'll find her."
The light grew brighter, swallowing everything in white.
And once again — they fell.
But this time, they knew where they were going.
They were falling into the story itself.