After Melly severed the siren's bond with Arkins, there was a heavy silence in the air—an unnatural stillness that lingered around them for days. Arkins slowly regained his strength, but something about the school had shifted.
It was like the shadows whispered now.
Even the wind felt like it was watching.
"I feel like we've triggered something," Ezra said one evening as the group gathered again in secret.
"You're not wrong," Selene replied. "Ever since Melly fought that enchantment, more eyes are on us. I can feel it… like we're being hunted."
"Then we need to stay sharp," Melly said. "This place is not what it appears to be, and I think that siren was just a warning sign."
That night, Zyren went for a walk alone to clear his head. But the silence wasn't peaceful—it was suffocating. As he passed one of the abandoned lecture halls, he heard breathing. Not his own. Slow, shallow… and behind him.
He turned sharply. No one was there. But the chill that crept down his spine wasn't lying.
Then a whisper slithered into his ear: "You don't belong here."
He spun around again, only to find the hallway completely empty.
The next day, he told the group. "There's something ancient in this school. I don't think it's just about vampires and sirens anymore. Something darker is waking up."
Selene nodded slowly. "There's a sealed chamber beneath the old chapel. I read about it in the restricted archive. It's said to be cursed… off-limits for a reason."
"We need to see it," Melly said. "Whatever's hiding there, it knows us now. And I think it's waiting for the perfect time to strike."
That night, the five of them snuck out and made their way to the abandoned chapel at the edge of campus. Overgrown vines crawled up its stone walls, and the doors creaked with secrets.
They found the trapdoor beneath the altar, just as Selene described.
"What if this is a trap?" Ezra whispered.
"It probably is," Arkins said, gripping Melly's hand. "But we're already part of this. We can't turn back now."
With a deep breath, they opened the trapdoor. Cold, ancient air rushed out like a forgotten scream.
And beneath, in the blackness, something moved. Watching. Waiting.
The school of magic was no longer just strange. It was alive.
And hungry.