Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound was physical. It shook the dust from the pipes above us. It vibrated in my teeth, in my bones.
This wasn't a warning. It was a declaration.
I clamped my hands over my ears, but it did nothing. The sound was too deep, too big. It was the sound of the school itself roaring to life, a monstrous, angry giant we had just kicked awake.
Elias was rocking back and forth, his eyes squeezed shut. "He rang the bell. He... oh god, he rang the bell."
"What does it mean?" I shouted, my voice sounding thin and stupid against the noise.
"It means everyone!" he shouted back, his voice cracking. "It means the Prefects, the 'loyal' families, the groundskeepers, the staff! It's not just Blackwood, it's an army! It's a general alarm! A manhunt!"
My stomach dropped. I suddenly, desperately, had to pee. It was so mundane, so humiliating, but the pressure was instant and agonizing. I was going to die in a wall, and I was going to wet myself first.
"I... I can't," I stammered, curling in on myself. The shaking wasn't from the cold anymore. It was a full-body tremor, a complete loss of control.
"Kaito, listen!" Elias grabbed the front of my shirt, his knuckles white. His panic was so raw it was almost contagious. "They're not... they're not just students anymore. They're indoctrinated. They're... his."
The bell finally stopped.
The silence that rushed in was worse. It was thick. It was listening.
And then, underneath the distant, drumming rain, we heard it.
The sound of the school coming alive.
It wasn't whispers. It was shouts.
It was the slamming of heavy doors, one after another, echoing up from the floors below. It was the scrape of boots on stone. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe.
It was an organized, methodical, angry sound.
I put my back flat against the rough wood, trying to make myself smaller, trying to merge with the wall. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I was Kaito. I was a scholarship student. I was supposed to be in the library, worried about exams.
A hot, stinging tear rolled down my cheek. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't a detective. I was a stupid, terrified kid.
I wanted my mom.
The thought hit me with the force of a physical blow. I choked on a sob, burying my face in my arms. I wanted to go home. I didn't care about the secrets, about Maya, about the Core. I just wanted to leave.
"Stop it," Elias hissed. His voice was trembling, but he was trying to force steel into it. "Stop it. Panic is a luxury. We can't afford it. They're looking for us."
"You... you said this place was safe!" I accused, my voice a wet, broken whisper.
"It was safe from psychic influence! From casual inspection!" he shot back, his face pale and slick with sweat in the lantern-light. "I didn't plan for... for a full-scale tactical search! I didn't think he'd turn the entire school into his personal SS!"
He was just as scared as I was. The realization offered no comfort. His certainty had been my only anchor. Now it was gone. He was just a kid in a crawlspace, same as me.
"So what now?" I whispered. "We just... wait here? Until they find us?"
"No." He scrubbed his face, his hands shaking. "No. They'll search top-down. They'll start with the main halls, then the dorms. But they'll get to the attics. They'll... they'll find the door."
"How? It's hidden!"
"They'll tap, Kaito! They'll tear the wallpaper off. They'll find it. This place... this is a trap now. It's not a safe house. It's a coffin."
The finality of that word... coffin. I felt the nausea rise again.
Shhh.
Elias froze. His hand shot out, clamping over my mouth.
My blood turned to ice.
We heard them. Not below us. Right outside. In the attic.
Footsteps. Creeping, careful. The creak of old floorboards.
They were in the same room we'd just left.
"Check everything," a voice said. It was cold, emotionless. A student's voice. I didn't recognize it. "Every chest. Every closet. Behind every sheet."
Creak... creak...
They were getting closer to our wall. I could hear the fabric rustle as they pulled a sheet off a piece of furniture right next to us.
I stopped breathing. My heart was a wild bird trapped in my chest, beating itself to death. I was sure they could hear it.
"This section," a new voice said. "The wallpaper is different."
A tap... tap... tap... on the wall, just inches from my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please, please, please...
Elias was rigid, his body pressed against the partition. I could feel him trembling, or maybe it was me.
"It's just old plaster," the first voice said, impatient. "There's nothing here. Let's check the West Tower attic. The Headmaster wants them. Now."
"What do we do when we find them?" the second voice asked.
A pause. The silence stretched, filled with a terrible, unspoken question.
"The Headmaster wants to speak with them," the first voice said, carefully. "He said to bring them to him. Intact... if possible."
If possible.
My stomach hollowed out.
We heard the footsteps recede. The creak of the attic door opening, then closing.
They were gone.
Elias let his hand fall from my mouth. I sagged, letting out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. It came out as a desperate, silent gasp.
"We have an hour," Elias whispered. His voice was completely flat. The fear was gone, replaced by a terrifying, brittle calm. "Maybe less. Before they come back. Before they decide to be more thorough."
"Where do we go?" I asked. "There's nowhere to go!"
"We go down," he said.
He scrambled over to his pile of supplies, pulling the old leather book from his bag. His hands were steady now.
"I was an idiot," he muttered, flipping pages frantically. "I was so focused on the Core, on the psychic stuff. I... I missed the rest."
"The rest of what?"
"This book isn't just about the Core. It's the founder's journal. From before all this. Before the school was even... this school. It was his private fortress."
He stabbed a finger at a page. It wasn't a map of the school. It was a diagram of tunnels under the school.
"Blackwood and his families, they built their machine on top of the founder's original foundation. They used his work. But this..." he traced a line with his finger. "This is older. A private escape route. It's not on any blueprint. It bypasses the main foundations."
"Where does it go?" I asked, hope a tiny, sick flicker.
"Out," Elias said. "Beyond the grounds. Into the forests."
"Where does it start?"
Elias met my eyes. His face was grim.
"No," I said instantly. "Absolutely not. We can't. He's down there. They're down there. They'll be all over that place."
"It's the only way," Elias insisted, already stuffing a flashlight and a bottle of water into his backpack. "They're searching from the top down. The boiler room is the last place they'll expect us to be, because it's the first place Blackwood went. It's the scene of the crime. They've already been there. They're not looking for us there."
His logic was frantic, but it was... logic. It was a plan. A terrible, insane, suicidal plan, but it was the only one we had.
"This tunnel," he said, "it's hidden. Just like this room. It's in the old coal chute. The one we saw. We go in, we go down, we get out."
He shoved the backpack at me, then picked up a small, heavy crowbar from his pile of tools. He handed it to me.
My hand was numb. The metal was cold.
"What's this for?" I whispered, my throat dry.
Elias looked at me, his eyes dead. "For the doors. Or for the 'intact, if possible' part. Don't think about it. Just... be ready."
He moved to the hidden door, pressing his ear against it.
The school was still alive with noise. Shouts, running feet, the distant clang of a metal gate being slammed shut. They were locking the place down. Turning our school into a prison.
Elias looked back at me. The weak yellow light cast long, horrible shadows across his face. He didn't look like a brilliant recluse. He looked like a cornered animal.
"Ready?" he whispered.
I gripped the cold, heavy crowbar. My knuckles were white.
"No," I said.
"Me neither," he whispered.
And he cracked open the door, spilling us back out into the hunt.