Tiamara Vale had never believed in things that couldn't be explained.
Not ghosts.
Not destiny.
Not the idea that somewhere, somehow, something might be waiting for her.
And yet—
She was running.
Her breath came out in sharp, uneven bursts, echoing against walls she couldn't see but somehow felt. The ground beneath her feet wasn't solid—it shifted, like sand pretending to be stone.
Or maybe stone pretending to be something alive.
She didn't know.
She didn't understand anything here.
All she knew was—
Something was behind her.
Not chasing.
Not rushing.
Just… there.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Tia…"
The voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It slipped into her mind like it had always belonged there.
"Tiamara…"
She stopped.
Not because she wanted to.
Because her body refused to move any further.
The darkness in front of her began to pull itself together, like ink gathering into shape. Lines curved. Symbols formed.
Strange.
Beautiful.
Wrong.
She didn't recognize them—
…but she understood them.
Not fully. Not clearly.
Just enough to feel something tighten in her chest.
A meaning without words.
A truth without language.
Her hand lifted on its own.
She didn't decide to move it.
She didn't even think.
She just—
reached.
The moment her fingers brushed the glowing symbol—
—
"Tia!"
Her eyes snapped open.
Light.
Real light.
Warm, golden sunlight spilled through the half-open curtains, hitting her face just enough to make her squint.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Her room.
Her bed.
Her world.
Normal.
"…You're gonna be late again, you know."
Mirelle Sora stood by the door, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, looking like she'd been watching Tia fight an invisible war for the past minute.
Tia pushed herself up slowly, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"…I was awake," she muttered.
Mirelle snorted. "Yeah. Looked like it. You were just casually sprinting in your sleep. Very athletic of you."
Tia didn't respond immediately.
Because the feeling hadn't left.
That strange… pull.
Like something unfinished.
"…Did I say anything?" Tia asked quietly.
Mirelle paused.
"…Yeah," she said after a second. "You said your own name. Twice. And then something else, but it didn't make sense."
Tia's fingers tightened slightly against the bedsheet.
"What?"
Mirelle shrugged. "Sounded like— I don't know—some weird language? Not English. Not anything I've heard."
A flicker of something passed through Tia's eyes.
Gone as quickly as it came.
"Probably just a dream," she said, forcing a small smile.
"Yeah," Mirelle replied, unconvinced but choosing not to push. "Well, dream faster next time. We've got ten minutes."
---
The university buzzed with the kind of energy that only came at the end of a semester.
Freedom.
Chaos.
Noise.
Students moved in clusters, laughter overlapping with complaints about exams that were already over. Plans were being made. Trips, parties, things that would probably be regretted later.
Tia walked beside Mirelle, listening more than speaking, her gaze drifting more often than not.
Something felt…
off.
Not wrong.
Just—
different.
"You're doing it again," Mirelle said suddenly.
"Doing what?"
"Zoning out like you're in some deep philosophical movie scene."
Tia huffed a small laugh. "Maybe I am."
"Yeah? Then I better be the cool best friend who survives till the end."
Tia smiled faintly.
"You'd survive anything."
"Obviously."
They turned the corner—
—and there they were.
Jessara Quinn sat on the low concrete wall, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through her phone like she owned the entire campus. Luneth Arca leaned against the railing nearby, headphones around her neck, eyes sharp despite her relaxed posture.
Lucien Voss stood a little apart, hands in his pockets, watching people pass like he was memorizing patterns.
And Bishop Kade—
Bishop was lying flat on the grass.
Just… existing.
Staring at the sky like it had personally offended him.
"Ah," Mirelle muttered. "The chaos committee."
Jessara glanced up first, a smirk already forming. "You're late."
"I was dragged into consciousness against my will," Tia replied.
"Tragic," Bishop said without moving. "We should protest mornings."
"You protest everything," Lucien added calmly.
"Exactly."
Luneth's gaze shifted to Tia, lingering for half a second longer than usual.
"You look tired."
Tia hesitated.
"…Didn't sleep well."
"That's new," Jessara said. "You usually sleep like the world owes you peace."
Before Tia could respond, Bishop suddenly sat up, eyes sharp now.
"Alright," he said, clapping once. "Important question."
Everyone groaned.
"No—listen," he insisted. "End of semester. This is our moment. We either do something unforgettable…"
He leaned forward slightly, grin slow and dangerous.
"…or we become boring adults."
"Speak for yourself," Luneth said dryly.
"No," Bishop said. "I refuse. I will not peak at university and then spend my life remembering group chats."
Jessara tilted her head, interested now despite herself.
"Go on."
Bishop's eyes flickered between them.
"What's the one thing people think about doing… but never actually do?"
Silence.
Lucien frowned slightly. "That's vague."
"Exactly."
"That's not helpful."
"It's perfectly helpful."
Mirelle crossed her arms. "If you say rob a bank, I'm leaving."
Bishop laughed. "Too basic."
Jessara's lips curved slowly.
"…So not money."
"Nope."
"Not parties."
"Nope."
Luneth's voice cut in, quieter.
"…Something impossible."
Bishop pointed at her. "Yes."
The word hung in the air.
Something shifted.
Tia felt it.
That same feeling from her dream.
A pull.
A thread tightening.
"…Like what?" she asked softly.
Bishop leaned back slightly, eyes gleaming.
"What if we steal something…"
A pause.
Something almost anticipatory settled around them.
"…that isn't supposed to be stolen?"
Jessara's attention sharpened completely now.
"Define 'isn't supposed to.'"
Bishop's grin widened.
"I mean something no one even knows how to reach."
Tia's heartbeat slowed.
Not faster.
Slower.
Heavier.
Like something inside her was listening.
"…Why does that sound like a bad idea?" Mirelle muttered.
"Because it is," Lucien said.
"And we're considering it anyway," Jessara added.
Luneth's gaze drifted, thoughtful.
"…There are rumors," she said slowly.
Everyone looked at her.
She rarely spoke without reason.
"About something," she continued, "not a place exactly… but not not a place either."
Tia's fingers curled slightly.
Her breath caught—
just for a second.
"Scientists tried to find it," Luneth said. "Failed. Every time."
"Cool," Bishop said. "I'm already interested."
"They said it couldn't be accessed by machines."
Jessara frowned. "So?"
Luneth looked at them.
Then—
at Tia.
"…Only by humans."
Silence fell.
Not awkward.
Not confused.
Just—
heavy.
Tia swallowed.
"…What is it?" she asked.
Luneth's voice dropped slightly.
"They don't know."
A beat.
"But the ones who've… claimed to experience it…"
Another pause.
"…said it felt like they'd finally done what they were meant to do."
Tia's chest tightened.
Not painfully.
Just enough to matter.
"…That's not possible," Mirelle said.
"No," Jessara agreed quietly.
"…It's not."
Bishop, however—
looked thrilled.
"So we're stealing that."
"WE are doing nothing," Lucien corrected.
Jessara didn't deny it this time.
Instead, she leaned forward slightly.
"Where do we start?"
Luneth hesitated.
Then said:
"…With a key."
Tia froze.
Something cold slid down her spine.
"…A key?" she repeated.
"Yes."
Luneth's eyes didn't leave hers.
"…Split into seven parts."
And somewhere—
deep inside her—
something answered.
---
Tia didn't notice when the conversation moved on.
Didn't notice when plans began forming.
Didn't notice the world returning to normal around her.
Because for the first time in her life—
she felt it clearly.
Not confusion.
Not curiosity.
Not fear.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Something that didn't belong to her…
but had been waiting for her anyway.
A whisper.
Soft.
Ancient.
Unavoidable.
You've begun.
---
And this time—
she wasn't running.