The knock lingered like a heartbeat.Three steady raps. Silence.
Ethan and Seth stared at each other — neither moved. Outside, moonlight carved a pale path across the floor, slicing through the dust that hung in the air like old memory.
Seth whispered, "Tell me that was just some prank."
Before Ethan could respond, the doorknob turned. Slowly.It wasn't forced — it invited.
Standing in the corridor were Fortea and Erena, cloaked in black robes stitched with silver thread. In their hands, lanterns glowed red — the same shade as the lilies in the greenhouse.
"Get dressed," Fortea said, smiling as if it were an ordinary field trip. "The Hunt begins in fifteen minutes."
"The… what now?" Seth's tone was halfway between disbelief and dread.
"The Lily Hunt," Erena clarified, voice calm and detached. "It's part of Point Veert's initiation rites. Only those chosen by the bloom may witness the forest."
Ethan's brow furrowed. "Chosen by the bloom? You're saying the flowers pick who goes?"
Fortea's eyes glinted in the lantern light. "You'll see."
They followed the twins out of the dormitory, down a narrow trail that wound through the mist-thickened fields. The grass shimmered faintly crimson. Dozens of students, all in similar robes, gathered in a clearing ahead. At the center stood Professor Fargrave — his usual lifeless demeanor replaced by something colder, sharper.
Around him, a circle of lilies bloomed unnaturally fast, petals unfolding under the moon's gaze.
"Tonight," Fargrave intoned, "we honor the bond between knowledge and survival. Blood and bloom. Life and decay."
A strange hum vibrated through the ground. The petals of the lilies trembled — and then cracked open, revealing droplets of glowing liquid.
Seth felt his skin crawl. "What… is that?"
Fortea handed him a chalice. "Drink."
He froze. "You're kidding."
"It's tradition," Erena said quietly. "Without it, you'll never see the path."
Ethan hesitated, glancing at Seth. The air itself seemed to lean closer, waiting. Against every instinct, they each took a sip.
The taste was metallic — like iron and lightning fused. The world tilted for a moment, colors bleeding into one another, until the forest around them flickered alive.
The ordinary woods were gone. In their place stood towering trees made of bone-white bark, their branches draped with tendrils of crimson moss. The ground pulsed faintly beneath their feet, like a heartbeat.
Seth staggered, clutching his head. "This—this isn't normal. We're hallucinating."
Ethan steadied him. "No. We're somewhere else."
Fortea's smile softened. "Welcome to the Hunting Grounds."
Fargrave's voice echoed across the clearing."Tonight's target — the Pale Stag. Its blood crystalizes upon death. Bring it forth, and the Lily shall feed."
Students around them raised weapons that shimmered with the same strange crystals embedded in the lilies' roots. Spears, blades, even gauntlets — all glowing faintly red.
Ethan whispered, "They're not pretending."
Seth exhaled shakily. "We're inside a ritual dimension."
"Or a biological field, amplified through the hybrid lily's compound," Ethan muttered, thinking aloud. "If that crystal compound acts as a neuro-spatial catalyst…"
"Ethan, now's not the time for science mode."
Ahead, a scream split the air. A student was hurled into the trees — something large moved in the dark, antlers catching the moonlight like knives. The Pale Stag stepped into view. Its body was translucent, veins filled with light instead of blood, and every breath shimmered frost.
For a heartbeat, the clearing froze. Then chaos erupted.
Students charged, chanting in that same rhythmic tongue Seth had heard the night before. The stag's hooves struck the ground — the shockwave sent three bodies flying.
"Ethan!" Seth shouted.
They dove aside as a bolt of crystalline shards burst from the creature's chest, impaling the earth where they'd stood.
Seth's heartbeat thundered. "We're not armed!"
Erena tossed something toward them — a shard of crystal fused to a hilt. "Hold it tight. It adapts."
As his hand closed around it, the shard reshaped — the crystal forming along his arm like living armor. It pulsed with red light, matching the rhythm of his pulse.
Ethan grabbed another fragment, and it solidified into a short blade, humming faintly like a tuning fork.
"Move!"
They charged together — Seth slashing as the crystal claws formed over his fingers, Ethan striking the creature's leg, sparks bursting where flesh met crystal.
The Pale Stag howled — not in pain, but in something ancient and furious. Its body cracked, revealing veins of raw light.
Seth's vision blurred; his curse — the feral blood — reacted violently to the crystal energy. He felt it rising again — that primal pulse in his veins, his teeth sharpening, his senses widening.
The stag turned its gaze toward him. The world slowed. He could feel its intent — pure malice distilled into instinct.
He whispered, "I can sense it… it wants to erase us."
"Then don't let it." Ethan's blade cut deep into the creature's flank. The crystal bled red light — the stag staggered, collapsing onto one knee. Seth lunged, driving his clawed arm through its chest.
A burst of blinding radiance engulfed the clearing.
When the light faded, the stag was gone — only a pool of solidified crimson crystal remained. The students cheered. Fargrave's face twisted into what might have been approval.
"Another offering complete," he said. "The Lily will bloom brighter tomorrow."
After the ritual, as the moon dimmed, the world shimmered — and they were suddenly back on the real campus grounds. Dew glistened on the grass, but the ground where the lilies had grown was scorched black.
Fortea approached, brushing stray hair from her face. "You handled yourself well."
Seth stared at his still-glowing arm. "What the hell was that place?"
"A reflection," Erena said. "The Lily's world. It chooses who lives through it."
Ethan frowned. "And the stag?"
Fortea's smile faltered. "It'll return. It always does. Until the bloom is fed enough."
The wind carried a faint metallic scent again — that same sweet, iron-laced perfume. Seth looked at the lilies in the distance. Their petals had deepened to a darker shade of red.
He felt a pulse behind his eyes — the curse whispering, "Blood remembers."
Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. "We need answers. Tomorrow, we go to the archives. Something tells me Fargrave's not just a professor here."
Seth nodded, eyes distant. "Yeah… and I think this college is feeding on more than just knowledge."
Behind them, the janitor Rourke swept the courtyard, humming an old tune. His broom dragged over the charred ground — and as the ashes scattered, tiny red shoots began to sprout again.
He looked up briefly, meeting Ethan's eyes.
Then he smiled — knowingly.
And kept sweeping.