Chapter 3: Whispers in Code
The library was quieter in the afternoon. Students milled in and out like shadows, murmuring at the catalog stations, their screens glowing faintly under the stained glass dome.
I had no plan—just a thread of curiosity, taut and humming.
Lev Belyaev.
His name echoed in my head from the moment our eyes met this morning. There was something… wrong about the familiarity.
Not just because he was handsome or intimidating.
Not just because he made the classroom air feel heavier.
But because I felt like I had seen him before.
In that darkness.
I sat down at one of the library terminals. My fingers hesitated above the keys. Then I typed in his name.
“Lev Belyaev - Sol Invictus Academy - Fehu Gold”
Dozens of records popped up—student awards, achievements, speaking engagements, charity projects.
One of the youngest recipients of the Helios Medal. Photographed alongside world leaders and at intercontinental climate summits.
Helios Medal, I repeated silently. That was awarded to youth leaders in sustainable technology. No ordinary student could qualify.
No ordinary family could raise someone like that.
He was practically royalty.
But what caught my attention wasn’t the accolades—it was a single attached image file buried deep under old yearbook metadata.
A photo. Blurry. Slightly faded.
Two children, standing side by side in front of a sprawling glass conservatory.
The girl wore a white sundress and had pale hair, with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The boy beside her stood taller, a little stiff in a black formal vest. His expression unreadable, even back then.
My throat dried.
That girl…
That was me.
Before I could stop myself, I clicked the tag.
“Event: Winter Gala - Year XX - Families: Belyaev & Albrecht”
I leaned back slowly, as if distance would help me process.
We knew each other.
Not just in passing. Not just from school.
Our families were close enough to attend formal galas together. So why didn’t I remember?
I stared at the image again. The young me. The young Lev.
Both looking like little aristocrats trapped in a moment too mature for their age.
The screen dimmed slightly. I tapped it back to life, but the silence now felt colder.
My reflection stared back faintly from the black interface.
Same pale hair. Same red eyes. Same face.
But who was I, really?
Before I could fall deeper into thought, I heard a chair shift nearby. I quickly exited the file.
Paloma leaned over the divider.
“Woah, you’ve been here forever,” she said with a grin. “Studying or stalking?”
I blinked. “Neither. Just… digging.”
She waved it off. “Come on, new girl. It’s break. You need sunlight or you’ll start turning transparent.”
I hesitated for a second, then stood.
But my eyes couldn’t help drifting back to the monitor.
Even now, I could still see the ghost of that photo.
That girl with the same face as mine.
Smiling like she had no idea she’d vanish one day.
[End of chapter 3]
