The bell rang through the misty campus of Point Veert, its chime hollow and unnaturally melodic, like something vibrating through the bones rather than the air. The fog hadn't lifted since dawn, thickening over the courtyard as students emerged from their dorms in sluggish, mechanical rhythm.
Ethan and Seth stood by the cracked marble railing outside their quarters, watching the line of students shuffle toward the dining hall. None of them spoke. None even blinked.
"Do you feel like we're back in that village again?" Seth murmured, eyes scanning the fog.
Ethan nodded slowly. "The same quiet. The same… pull."
The scent of metal and flowers hung heavy. Somewhere, a faint hum underfoot grew in intensity — a low frequency that made their teeth ache.
The loudspeakers came alive again.
"Attendance is mandatory," Fortea's voice repeated, calm and cheerful, though now it sounded layered — as if two people were speaking through one mouth.
Ethan turned to Seth. "If we skip this, they'll notice."
Seth cracked a weak grin. "And if we go?"
"Then we see what they're feeding."
The dining hall was nothing like the one they'd entered on the first week.The tables had been rearranged into circular clusters, each centerpiece decorated with a single vase of crimson flowers — the hybrid Blood Lily.
Every student received the same meal: rice, broth, and a tiny red petal resting on the surface like an offering.
Professor Fargrave stood at the far end, his hands folded neatly, his eyes brighter than usual. "Good morning, students," he said with almost paternal warmth. "Today we continue your assimilation protocol."
A hush fell.
Ethan glanced at Seth — his pulse quickened when he saw the faint shimmer of red under Seth's skin.
"Do not eat," Ethan whispered.
Seth's eyes darted toward a nearby group of students already consuming their meals. Their expressions shifted — from bland neutrality to tranquil smiles. Then came the twitching. A ripple under their flesh, veins glowing faintly red before subsiding.
"They're adapting to it," Seth said quietly. "The plant's merging."
Ethan leaned forward, pretending to eat, whispering into his sleeve mic. "Jeena, if you're hearing this — something's wrong here. They're using the flower to—"
A hand fell on his shoulder. Cold.
He looked up. Fortea.
Her hair was braided neatly, crimson streaks catching the hall light. Her twin, Erena, stood behind her, her eyes far too calm.
"Mr. Callahan," Fortea said sweetly. "We don't use devices during our sessions."
Ethan forced a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Habit."
Her gaze lingered on him a little too long. "That's fine. We all have habits. Some… harder to erase."
Then she smiled, and something in her smile felt wrong — stretched at the corners like a mask trying to mimic human warmth.
Erena tilted her head. "You haven't touched your meal."
"I'm not hungry," Ethan said.
Fortea's tone softened, almost pitying. "It's not about hunger. It's about connection."
Before he could reply, she leaned in closer, whispering — her voice splitting slightly, like an echo out of sync.
"The flower remembers. It's waiting for you, Ethan."
Then she turned away, gliding toward the other students.
Seth leaned in, whispering urgently. "They know."
"I know," Ethan said. "Let's get out of here before—"
The floor trembled.
A sound rose beneath the building — a low resonance, humming through the tiles and walls. The flowers in the vases began to vibrate, their petals folding inward. Students around them froze, their eyes glowing faintly red.
Seth clutched the table. "It's happening again!"
Ethan's breath quickened. "Not like before. This time it's synchronized—"
The lights flickered. The humming deepened.
Then every student exhaled in unison. A red mist escaped their mouths, rising and forming patterns above the hall — concentric circles of luminescent symbols twisting like DNA.
Professor Fargrave raised his arms. "Resonance achieved. Proceed to Phase Two."
Ethan grabbed Seth's wrist, dragging him toward the emergency exit.They shoved the doors open, stumbling into the cold morning fog.
"Phase Two?" Seth gasped.
Ethan's mind raced. "They're synchronizing the human nervous system to the hybrid root network — creating a hive resonance. That's what Jeena's files meant!"
Seth's eyes flashed faint red again; he stumbled, clutching his head. "It's… calling me…"
Ethan caught him before he fell. "No! Fight it!"
But Seth's breath came out ragged. "It's not pain — it's recognition. The plant knows me. The blood curse… it's reacting."
Before Ethan could answer, movement in the fog drew his eye.
Someone was standing by the fountain — tall, drenched, and familiar.
The janitor.
He held up a trembling hand. "You have to get underground," he rasped. "They're opening the root chamber."
Ethan stepped forward. "Root chamber?"
The janitor's eyes darted nervously. "Where the hybrid's core sleeps. The twins guard it. The resonance today is a signal — to awaken it."
Seth steadied himself. "And what happens when it wakes?"
Marlowe swallowed hard. "Then the soil stops needing humans. It'll feed on them instead."
Ethan glanced toward the hall. Through the window, the students' silhouettes were still perfectly still, heads tilted back, red light pulsing through their veins.
He turned to Seth. "We need to cut the power to the resonance network before it completes. That means—"
"Going underground," Seth finished grimly.
The janitor nodded once. "There's an access tunnel behind the biology wing. I'll open it. But you'll need to hurry — the twins will sense it."
Ethan looked up at the fog-drenched tower looming over the campus — Point Veert's iconic clocktower, its hands frozen at 6:13.
The same time the bus broke down two years ago in the village.
A chill raced through him. "This isn't just an experiment," he murmured. "It's continuation."
Seth's eyes glowed faintly again — his curse flaring under the proximity of the flowers. "Then we end it this time."
Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "Together."
Seth smirked weakly. "Just like old times."
The fog thickened, swallowing their silhouettes as they followed the janitor toward the tunnels — unaware that above them, in the dining hall, Fortea's eyes had turned completely crimson.
She smiled softly, watching the mist outside."Let them run," she whispered. "The roots always find their way back."