Aurel didn't remember much of his dreams — only the part where he woke up gasping, staring at his glowing wrist in the darkness.
But when morning came, the glow was gone. Gone like it never existed.
He spent extra minutes in front of the bathroom mirror, rotating his arm under the light. Nothing. No mark. No shimmer.
Maybe Chapter 2 was just his brain playing games. Maybe stress from exams, maybe the mirror reflection, maybe—
But deep down, he knew.
Strange things don't happen without reason.
And the universe doesn't shine symbols into people's skin for fun.
By the time he reached school, he had convinced himself to act normal. Blend in. Pretend everything was fine.
But the moment he walked into the classroom, normality ended.
Because Aria was already staring at him.
Not a casual look.
Not an accidental glance.
A stare filled with calculation — concern — recognition.
Aurel quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, and took his seat. His heart was beating faster than the ticking clock behind him.
But Aria stood up.
And she walked straight to him.
Aurel didn't even have time to prepare before she sat beside him, her voice only loud enough for him to hear.
"Aurel," she said, "the mirror yesterday… it did something to you."
Aurel's breath hitched. "You saw that?"
"Not everything," she whispered. "But I saw your reflection move after you did. I saw the flash of light. And I saw your wrist glow."
Aurel's stomach sank.
So it wasn't just him.
Silence hung between them for a moment. Not awkward — dense.
He slowly rolled up his sleeve just a little.
The symbol wasn't gone. It was just sleeping.
Even in the bright classroom light, it was faint — like an ember buried in ash, ready to ignite again.
Aria inhaled sharply.
"I was hoping," she whispered, voice breaking just slightly, "that I was wrong."
Aurel turned to her. "Aria… what is this? What's happening to me?"
Her lips parted — as if she was just about to tell him —
and then the room changed.
It didn't darken.
It didn't shake.
It simply paused.
The teacher froze mid-word.
Students froze mid-motion.
A leaf drifting outside the window froze mid-air.
The whole world held its breath.
Aurel's chair scraped the floor as he stood — the sound painfully loud in the silence.
"Aria… what is this?!"
She rose slowly too — but she wasn't shocked. She was terrified, yes, but not surprised. That scared Aurel even more.
"Aurel," she whispered, "time only stops when a mark awakens."
He looked down.
His wrist was glowing again — but not faintly. It was alive, pulsing like a second heartbeat under his skin.
"What is this mark?" Aurel demanded. "What am I?"
Aria didn't answer — instead she held out her own wrist.
Aurel's eyes widened.
She had the same symbol.
But hers was older. Etched into her skin like it belonged there — familiar, controlled, weathered by use.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
"It's real," Aurel whispered. "I thought I was losing my mind."
Aria shook her head slowly. "You're not losing it. You're finding it. That's the problem."
Before he could ask what she meant, the ground trembled — not violently, but deeply — like something enormous was waking up underneath the school.
The air turned cold.
Ink from someone's pen froze midair. Frozen droplets sparkled like black stars.
Aurel felt something watching him.
Not from outside.
From inside the silence.
Shadows pooled under desks, crawling toward him like liquid night. Goosebumps exploded across his skin.
A voice whispered inside Aurel's skull — a voice with no mouth, no breath:
Found you.
Aurel gasped. "Did — did you hear that!?"
Aria grabbed his hand instantly. "Don't listen. Don't let it near your mind."
The moment their skin touched — both marks ignited.
Light surged — white and gold — curling around their arms like flame. The shadows flinched violently, withdrawing like they had been burned.
Aurel staggered back, panting. The power rushing through him felt too big — too wild — too impossible.
"What's happening to me?!"
Aria stepped closer, gripping his shoulders.
"Aurel," she said urgently, "your mark just awakened yesterday. It shouldn't be this strong yet. It shouldn't be reacting like this. This level of energy— it's not normal. It's not even safe."
Her voice cracked — not with fear for herself, but for him.
"If the Hollowed reach you while your power is unstable, you won't survive. None of us will."
Aurel's pulse thundered. "Who are the Hollowed? What do they want?"
Aria swallowed hard.
"They're the things that don't belong to daylight. They hunt anything touched by divinity. Anything like us."
Aurel felt the world spinning. "So what are we?"
Aria looked up at him — eyes full of fear, but something else too… something soft, protective, unspoken.
"You deserve the truth," she whispered. "But not here. Not when your power is screaming. If they sense you again, they'll tear this whole building apart."
Aurel forced himself to breathe. "Then when?"
Aria glanced around — not at the students, but at the corners where the shadows had crawled from.
She leaned in — too close — her voice trembling against his skin.
"Tonight. 10 p.m. on the rooftop. No excuses. No one else. Your life depends on it."
Then — as if someone hit play — the world resumed.
The teacher finished her sentence.
Students kept writing.
Ink finally splattered.
No one noticed the quake. No one noticed the frozen second. No one noticed the changed universe, except two people.
Aria walked back to her seat slowly.
Aurel couldn't stop staring at her — not because she had answers, but because she was afraid for him.
For the first time since this began, Aurel wasn't afraid of the mark.
He was afraid of the truth waiting on the rooftop.
Aurel didn't remember much of his dreams — only the part where he woke up gasping, staring at his glowing wrist in the darkness.
But when morning came, the glow was gone. Gone like it never existed.
He spent extra minutes in front of the bathroom mirror, rotating his arm under the light. Nothing. No mark. No shimmer.
Maybe Chapter 2 was just his brain playing games. Maybe stress from exams, maybe the mirror reflection, maybe—
But deep down, he knew.
Strange things don't happen without reason.
And the universe doesn't shine symbols into people's skin for fun.
By the time he reached school, he had convinced himself to act normal. Blend in. Pretend everything was fine.
But the moment he walked into the classroom, normality ended.
Because Aria was already staring at him.
Not a casual look.
Not an accidental glance.
A stare filled with calculation — concern — recognition.
Aurel quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, and took his seat. His heart was beating faster than the ticking clock behind him.
But Aria stood up.
And she walked straight to him.
Aurel didn't even have time to prepare before she sat beside him, her voice only loud enough for him to hear.
"Aurel," she said, "the mirror yesterday… it did something to you."
Aurel's breath hitched. "You saw that?"
"Not everything," she whispered. "But I saw your reflection move after you did. I saw the flash of light. And I saw your wrist glow."
Aurel's stomach sank.
So it wasn't just him.
Silence hung between them for a moment. Not awkward — dense.
He slowly rolled up his sleeve just a little.
The symbol wasn't gone. It was just sleeping.
Even in the bright classroom light, it was faint — like an ember buried in ash, ready to ignite again.
Aria inhaled sharply.
"I was hoping," she whispered, voice breaking just slightly, "that I was wrong."
Aurel turned to her. "Aria… what is this? What's happening to me?"
Her lips parted — as if she was just about to tell him —
and then the room changed.
It didn't darken.
It didn't shake.
It simply paused.
The teacher froze mid-word.
Students froze mid-motion.
A leaf drifting outside the window froze mid-air.
The whole world held its breath.
Aurel's chair scraped the floor as he stood — the sound painfully loud in the silence.
"Aria… what is this?!"
She rose slowly too — but she wasn't shocked. She was terrified, yes, but not surprised. That scared Aurel even more.
"Aurel," she whispered, "time only stops when a mark awakens."
He looked down.
His wrist was glowing again — but not faintly. It was alive, pulsing like a second heartbeat under his skin.
"What is this mark?" Aurel demanded. "What am I?"
Aria didn't answer — instead she held out her own wrist.
Aurel's eyes widened.
She had the same symbol.
But hers was older. Etched into her skin like it belonged there — familiar, controlled, weathered by use.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
"It's real," Aurel whispered. "I thought I was losing my mind."
Aria shook her head slowly. "You're not losing it. You're finding it. That's the problem."
Before he could ask what she meant, the ground trembled — not violently, but deeply — like something enormous was waking up underneath the school.
The air turned cold.
Ink from someone's pen froze midair. Frozen droplets sparkled like black stars.
Aurel felt something watching him.
Not from outside.
From inside the silence.
Shadows pooled under desks, crawling toward him like liquid night. Goosebumps exploded across his skin.
A voice whispered inside Aurel's skull — a voice with no mouth, no breath:
Found you.
Aurel gasped. "Did — did you hear that!?"
Aria grabbed his hand instantly. "Don't listen. Don't let it near your mind."
The moment their skin touched — both marks ignited.
Light surged — white and gold — curling around their arms like flame. The shadows flinched violently, withdrawing like they had been burned.
Aurel staggered back, panting. The power rushing through him felt too big — too wild — too impossible.
"What's happening to me?!"
Aria stepped closer, gripping his shoulders.
"Aurel," she said urgently, "your mark just awakened yesterday. It shouldn't be this strong yet. It shouldn't be reacting like this. This level of energy— it's not normal. It's not even safe."
Her voice cracked — not with fear for herself, but for him.
"If the Hollowed reach you while your power is unstable, you won't survive. None of us will."
Aurel's pulse thundered. "Who are the Hollowed? What do they want?"
Aria swallowed hard.
"They're the things that don't belong to daylight. They hunt anything touched by divinity. Anything like us."
Aurel felt the world spinning. "So what are we?"
Aria looked up at him — eyes full of fear, but something else too… something soft, protective, unspoken.
"You deserve the truth," she whispered. "But not here. Not when your power is screaming. If they sense you again, they'll tear this whole building apart."
Aurel forced himself to breathe. "Then when?"
Aria glanced around — not at the students, but at the corners where the shadows had crawled from.
She leaned in — too close — her voice trembling against his skin.
"Tonight. 10 p.m. on the rooftop. No excuses. No one else. Your life depends on it."
Then — as if someone hit play — the world resumed.
The teacher finished her sentence.
Students kept writing.
Ink finally splattered.
No one noticed the quake. No one noticed the frozen second. No one noticed the changed universe, except two people.
Aria walked back to her seat slowly.
Aurel couldn't stop staring at her — not because she had answers, but because she was afraid for him.
For the first time since this began, Aurel wasn't afraid of the mark.
He was afraid of the truth waiting on the rooftop.