Pov Josiane...
Josie tried to focus on her notes.
She really tried.
The words were right there. The diagrams made sense. The lecture recording played softly through her earphones.
But her mind kept drifting.
To the corridor.
To the argument.
To the symbol.
E.V.E
It followed her thoughts like a shadow that refused to disappear.
She finally pulled her earphones out with a frustrated sigh.
"This is pointless."
Outside her dorm window, evening settled slowly over campus. Streetlights blinked awake. The sky deepened into violet-blue.
Everything looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Like calm water hiding a strong current underneath.
Josie grabbed her hoodie.
"If no one's going to tell me anything," shemuttered, "I'll find it myself."
The library smelled like paper and quiet concentration.
Only a handful of students remained at this hour, scattered across corners with laptops and heavy textbooks.
Josie walked past the main shelves toward the rear section most people ignored — Archives & Records.
Old files. Past reports. Institutional history.
Dust floated in the warm light.
She traced her fingers along the labeled spines.
Annual Reports.
Disciplinary Logs.
Administrative Records.
Then she saw it.
Student Council — Archived Proceedings (Restricted Access)
Her heartbeat quickened.
"Restricted usually means important."
She glanced around.
No staff nearby.
Carefully, she slid one thick file halfway out.
It resisted slightly — like it hadn't been touched in years.
When it finally came free, a thinner folder slipped out and fell.
Papers scattered across the floor.
"Oh no—"
She crouched quickly to gather them.
And froze.
A photograph stared back at her.
An older Student Council group posed in the same chamber still used today.
Same oval table. Same emblem on the wall.
Different faces.
Some smiling. Some serious.
Stamped across the bottom in red ink:
INTERNAL INCIDENT — CONFIDENTIAL
Josie's mouth went dry.
She turned the photo over.
A date from years ago.
Before she ever joined the university.
Before most current leaders.
Another page slid loose from the stack.
Printed diagram.
Circular design.
Intersecting lines.
A marking at the center.
And beneath it—
E.V.E
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
"Why does this keep appearing…?"
"Because it never really ended."
Josie jolted upright.
Linux stood a few feet away between the shelves.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just quietly concerned.
"You shouldn't be digging alone,"he said.
"I waited," she replied softly. "No one explained anything."
He stepped closer, eyes falling to the photo.
Something shifted in his expression — recognition mixed with reluctance.
"That year changed everything," he said.
"How?" she asked.
Before he could answer—
Raised voices echoed from the corridor outside.
Sharp. Heated. Urgent.
Kaela.
"We can't keep protecting the past forever!"
Cain.
"And we can't destroy the present exposing it recklessly!"
Josie and Linux moved toward the sound.
The Student Council hallway felt tense, like air before a storm.
Kaela stood rigid near the conference room door, a file pressed tightly to her chest.
Cain faced her, jaw set, hands on his hips.
"This affects the entire student body,"Kaela continued. "Leaders owe transparency."
"Leaders also owe stability," Cain shot back. "You don't drop truths like bombs."
Josie had never seen them like this.
Not composed.
Not balanced.
Just human.
Frustrated. Worried. Divided.
Linux stepped between them slightly.
"Enough. We'll handle this properly."
Kaela's eyes flashed. "Properly or quietly?"
Silence.
Cain exhaled slowly. "This isn't about choosing sides."
"Itbecame about sides when we chose silence," Kaela replied.
Josie swallowed.
"This is about E.V.E, isn't it?"
All three turned toward her instantly.
Too fast.
Too alert.
Linux's voice softened. "Josie—"
Her phone buzzed loudly in her hand.
The sound cut through the tension.
Unknown Number.
Her fingers felt cold as she opened it.
Curious minds fall first.
Another message followed.
Stop searching.
Her face drained of color.
Linux saw the screen. His expression hardened.
Kaela stepped closer. "They contacted you too?"
Josie looked up sharply. "Too?"
Cain looked away.
Which meant yes.
Linux ran a hand through his hair, controlled frustration visible.
"This is what I wanted to prevent."
"Ididn't ask to be protected," Josie said quietly. "I asked to be trusted."
That landed heavily.
Kaela and Cain exchanged a glance.
Finally, Kaela spoke.
"If she's already being targeted, keeping her blind won't help."
Cain hesitated. "Kaela…"
"She deserves context," Kaela insisted.
Linux looked torn.
Between fear and fairness.
Responsibility and attachment.
Then he nodded slowly.
"E.V.E wasn't just a symbol," he said.
Josie's heart pounded.
"Itwas an initiative. A student-led program meant to improve campus systems."
"Then what went wrong?" she asked.
His jaw tightened .
"Itcrossed lines."
Before he could explain further—
The corridor lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything went dark.
Gasps echoed around them.
Emergency lights glowed faint red along the walls.
Footsteps rushed in the distance.
The building felt suddenly unfamiliar.
Unsteady.
Josie felt a steady hand hold her wrist.
Linux.
"I've got you."
Her breathing was uneven.
Kaela's voice stayed firm in the dark. "This isn't coincidence."
Cain nodded grimly. "It's a warning."
Josie's phone buzzed again.
She didn't want to look.
But she did.
You were told to stay out.
Her hands trembled.
Linux stepped slightly in front of her.
Protective.
Resolute.
It wasn't history.
It was active.
Watching.
Waiting.
And now—
It knew her name.
To be continued…