POV: Aria
The guard's fingers felt like iron claws as he ripped the badge from my chest.
I heard the fabric tear. Felt the metal pin scrape skin. But the real pain was watching everyone I'd ever trusted stand there and let it happen.
"Aria Chen," the Head Councilor's voice echoed through the room. "You are hereby stripped of your Spirit Warrior license for theft of intellectual property and fraudulent research claims."
My knees wanted to fall. I locked them. I wouldn't fall. Not here. Not in front of them.
Celeste stood at the prosecutor's table, dabbing her beautiful face with a silk handkerchief. My baby sister. The girl I'd raised after Mom died. The one I'd given everything to.
She was crying. Actually crying.
"I tried to protect her," Celeste whispered, but the chamber's echoes carried every word. "I knew Aria was suffering. I wanted to help. But when I found she'd been stealing my research for years..." Her voice broke. "I couldn't let her hurt other people with false information."
Lies. All lies.
But no one was looking at me to see the truth.
"The evidence is clear." Marcus stepped forward. My Marcus. The boy who'd held my hand through Mom's funeral. Who'd promised we'd always have each other's backs. He held up a data crystal. "These are Celeste's original study files, dated two years ago. And these"—another crystal—"are Aria's entries from last month. Identical formulas. Identical conclusions. Even exact typos."
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Because I had written those numbers. I'd spent three years developing that Spirit resonance theory. Three years of late nights and failed projects and bloody noses from pushing my weak D-rank power too hard.
And somehow, Celeste had copies dated before mine existed.
"I didn't—" My voice cracked. "Those are my notes. I don't understand how—"
"Enough." The Head Councilor raised his hand. "We've heard sufficient proof. The Council agrees unanimously. Aria Chen, you are banned from practicing as a Spirit Warrior. Your license is canceled. Your Spirit crystal will be taken. You have one week to leave Academy housing."
The room spun. One week. They were taking everything. My work. My place. My full future.
"Please," I whispered. "Just let me explain—"
"The decision is final."
I looked at Celeste. Really looked at her. Searching for some hint of the little girl who used to crawl into my bed during hurricanes. Who'd called me her hero.
She met my eyes. And for just a second—less than a heartbeat—her face changed.
The tears vanished. Her mouth curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. And her eyes... they were wrong. Too bright. Too hungry.
Then she blinked, and the perfect, crying sister was back.
My blood turned to ice.
A hand touched my shoulder. I spun, and there he was.
Dominic Ashford. The War Commander. The nation's best S-rank warrior. The man who'd kissed me under cherry blossoms two years ago and promised forever.
The man who'd dumped me six months later, saying I was "inadequate for someone of his station."
He stood beside Celeste now. His hand rested on her lower back. Possessive. Protective.
He didn't look at me. Not once during the entire trial.
"Aria," he said, voice flat as cold steel. "You should leave before you embarrass yourself further."
Something inside me snapped.
Not broke. Snapped. Like a wire pulled too tight, finally released.
I laughed. Actually laughed. The sound echoed weird and wrong in the silent room.
"You know what?" I looked at each of them. Celeste with her fake tears. Marcus with his guilty eyes. Dominic with his perfect, empty face. "You're right. I should leave."
I turned toward the door. Guards moved to take me.
"Don't bother," I said. "I know the way out."
I walked through that room with my head up. Past the whispering Council members. Past the junior Warriors who'd once asked for my help with homework. Past the entire world that had just decided I was useless.
The doors slammed behind me. The sound was final as a coffin shut.
I made it to the street before my legs gave out.
I fell against a wall in some alley, gasping. Not crying. I was done crying. But my chest hurt like something important had been ripped out.
My scroll buzzed. Messages pouring in. I didn't need to read them to know what they said.
Did you really steal from your own sister?
I always knew she was fake.
Poor Celeste, having a thief for family.
I threw the scroll. Watched it break against brick.
Then came the headache.
It started small. A pressure behind my eyes. But it grew. And grew. Until I was on my knees, forehead pressed to filthy concrete, screaming into my hands.
The pain was breaking something. Not my body. Something deeper. Like a lock inside my brain was being torn open.
And suddenly— I remember.
The memories crashed through me like a wave. Another life. Another world. Another name.
I wasn't always Aria Chen.
I was someone else. Someone who understood exactly how to weaponize fear. Someone who'd died and woken up as a helpless baby in this strange world where feelings had power.
For twenty-three years, those thoughts had been locked away. Hidden. Sealed.
Until now.
I pushed myself up. My hands had stopped shaking. The fear was gone, burned away by cold certainty.
They'd stripped me of everything? Perfect.
I didn't need their approval anymore.
A laugh bubbled up. Real this time. Dark and sharp as broken glass.
Because I suddenly understood something important. Something scary.
In a world where Spirit Warriors gathered fear to gain power, I'd just remembered how to create nightmares that could make gods scream.
Footsteps echoed behind me. Heavy boots. Multiple sets.
"There she is. The shamed one."
I turned. Three men in Council Guard uniforms blocked the alley door. But their eyes were wrong. Too bright. Glowing faint purple in the dark.
Not human eyes.
Spirit-possessed eyes.
"The Mimic sends her regards," the middle one said, grinning. "She wanted to make sure you understood the message. Stay down. Stay broken. Or next time, we won't just take your license."
His hand sparked with Spirit energy. Lethal force. Forbidden inside ci
ty lines.
They weren't here to scare me.
They were here to kill me.