Chapter 105: The Name in the Fog

The fog never left. By the time the clock in the dorm common room struck three, the world outside still looked like it had been swallowed whole. No moon. No stars. Just a white curtain pressed against the glass.

No one slept.

Elena sat upside down on the couch with her feet thrown over the backrest, muttering about “death traps and demon sorority queens.” Ethan sat at the coffee table, his laptop humming as his fingers flew across the keys. Echo stayed by the window, her arms folded, her face pale and unreadable. Aidan paced like he was one heartbeat away from breaking through the walls. Rhea had curled into a chair with the journal, eyes darting across the pages even though she was clearly too tired to process them.

And me? I was caught in the middle, my head pounding with one word that refused to let go.

Selene.

It felt heavy just thinking it.

“Alright,” Elena finally said, sitting up with her hair a mess. “Somebody explain why Golden-Eyed Mystery Boy thought dropping that name like a mic would freak us out. Because spoiler alert—it worked. But why?”

“Because Selene isn’t just a name,” Echo said, her voice soft but cutting. “It’s a warning.”

“Great. A warning about what?” Elena snapped.

“That’s what I’m trying to find,” Ethan muttered without looking up. His screen glowed across his glasses. “I’ve run it through every database tied to the Creed, every archive Gregory left behind, even half a dozen corrupted myth files. Nothing. Just scraps.”

“Define scraps,” Aidan said sharply, stopping mid-step.

Ethan sighed. “The kind of scraps that make you wish you hadn’t found them. Old mentions in hybrid logs. Whispered notes in hunter scrolls. One even had a sketch—half-burned, almost erased on purpose.”

“And?” I asked, my throat tight.

He finally looked up. “And every single one of them said the same thing. Selene isn’t someone you fight. She’s someone you survive.”

The room went dead quiet.

“Fantastic,” Elena said at last, clapping her hands once. “So, option A, we hide under the bed until she gets bored and goes home. Option B, we face her and die gloriously. Option C, we transfer to another school with less homicidal moon witches. I vote C.”

“Not funny,” Aidan growled.

“Who said I was joking?” she shot back.

Rhea finally lifted her eyes from the journal. Her voice trembled, but she forced it out. “She’s here. On these pages. Look.” She flipped the book around so we could see. The handwriting was faded, but the word leapt off the paper anyway. Selene. Written three times. Circled. Underlined.

“What does it say?” I asked.

Rhea licked her lips nervously. “‘The one who walks with shadows. The betrayer of the seal. When the Harbingers falter, she rises. When the bloodline wavers, she calls.’”

Echo stepped forward and read over her shoulder. Her jaw tightened. “It’s prophecy.”

“Or garbage poetry,” Elena muttered, though her voice lacked heat.

“No,” I whispered. “It’s about me.”

Everyone turned.

I pushed up from the couch, pacing now myself. “Think about it. Gregory called me the key. His sister said I was chosen. Now Damien shows up and gives me Selene’s name like it’s supposed to mean something. And in this book? She calls when the bloodline wavers. Who else’s bloodline has been shoved in my face since day one?”

Aidan’s eyes locked on mine. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

I snapped. “I’m not doing it. They are! Gregory, the Creed, the damn universe! It all keeps circling back to me, and I’m sick of pretending it’s just coincidence!”

The words echoed in the small room. No one spoke.

Then Ethan cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth,” he said carefully, “prophecies are rarely literal. They’re messy, coded, vague. Half the time they’re just riddles some cult leader wrote while drunk.”

“That’s comforting,” Elena said.

“I try,” Ethan replied dryly.

Rhea looked back at the journal. “It’s not just prophecy. It’s… personal. The Harbinger who wrote this—she wasn’t warning the world. She was warning her daughter.”

“Her daughter?” I asked.

Rhea nodded slowly. “She wrote, ‘If Selene rises, protect the line. Protect her, even if she doesn’t want it.’”

Silence stretched again.

Finally, Echo whispered, “She meant you.”

\---

The floor creaked.

We all jerked our heads toward the door.

The knob turned.

Aidan was already moving, blade drawn, body shielding mine before I had time to breathe. Elena had her crossbow raised in a flash. Ethan slammed his laptop shut, eyes wide. Echo’s hand went to the knife on her belt.

The door opened—

And Mara walked in, holding a plate of cookies.

“Really?” Elena groaned, lowering her crossbow. “You nearly got shot over baked goods.”

Mara blinked, completely unfazed. “You’re welcome.” She set the plate on the table. “Figured you lot would be starving since none of you bothered to sleep.”

Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Next time, knock.”

“And miss the chance to watch you all panic? Not a chance,” Mara said dryly, grabbing a cookie for herself.

Elena snorted. “Okay, respect. You might actually be my favorite now.”

But even the joke didn’t break the tension. The word still hung between us, heavier than the fog outside.

Selene.

Whoever she was, she wasn’t just a name. She was coming.

And somehow, I knew she wasn’t coming for all of us.

She was coming for me.