**Chapter 1 — The Letter**
They had grown up like brothers.
Arin and Kael lived on the same street, studied at the same desk, dreamed the same dreams. Their parents often joked that fate had tied their lives together before either of them could speak. When the time came to prepare for higher studies, both families bought the same thick books, stamped with the seal of the **Astra Institute**—the most prestigious scientific academy in the world.
No one refused an Astra invitation.
The institute promised progress. Innovation. A future above the limits of the Earth.
They didn't mention the island.
---
The floating island revealed itself on their third day at the institute. It hovered far above the clouds, massive and silent, its shadow crawling across the ground like a living thing. Professors spoke of it with reverence.
"Humanity's next step," they called it.
Only a handful of students were chosen to go there.
Arin and Kael were both selected.
They stood together on the transport platform, wind tearing at their coats, excitement burning in their chests. Neither of them noticed the unease in the staff's eyes.
That was the last time they stood side by side.
---
Only Arin returned.
He came back months later—alone.
The boy who returned looked like Kael, spoke like Kael, but wasn't the same. He laughed too easily, flirted without care, drifted from woman to woman like nothing mattered. Professors praised him. Students envied him. Rumors followed him everywhere.
But when Arin was alone, his smile vanished.
Kael never came back.
No explanation was given. No ceremony. Just silence.
---
The letter arrived on a night when the power failed.
Arin was in his dorm room when the lights cut out, plunging the hall into darkness. Seconds later, something tapped against his window.
Tap. Tap.
A bird sat outside—its feathers unusually dark, its eyes sharp with intelligence. A small tube was tied to its leg.
Arin's hands trembled as he opened it.
Kael's handwriting stared back at him.
---
*If you're reading this, it means I'm still alive… or I wasn't fast enough.*
Arin sat on the floor as the words burned into him.
*The floating island is a lie. Everything they show us is a performance.*
Kael wrote about becoming a spy the moment he realized students weren't researchers—they were **subjects**. He described a vast mansion at the island's core, filled with locked rooms and silent corridors. Guards everywhere. Cameras hidden behind walls.
To move freely, Kael did the unthinkable.
*I disguised myself as a girl.*
Arin swallowed hard.
One room haunted the letter more than any other.
*Three girls. Mentally broken. Dressed like anime characters. Watching the same shows on repeat. Laughing. Crying. They're experiments, Arin. People reduced to props.*
Kael barely escaped that place.
On the topmost floor of the mansion, he found the truth.
*A sphere. A weapon. Not finished yet—but powerful enough to shake the Earth.*
Kael stole the prototype.
He tested it on a distant mountain.
*It broke apart like sand.*
That was when Kael understood.
*They're not advancing humanity. They're preparing to control it.*
---
The letter grew frantic.
Kael wrote about running, about alarms, about the island's owners finally revealing themselves. He survived only because of an animal he had befriended—something fast, loyal, and smarter than it should have been.
During the escape, he fell into a valley, the prototype still in his possession.
*I don't know if I can leave the island. If I disappear, assume the worst.*
The final lines were shaky.
*Arin, the island will act soon. When it does, the world will shake. Trust no one. Pretend you're still the idiot they think you are.*
*I'm hiding on the highest floor they forgot to erase.*
*This is a warning.*
---
The letter ended.
The room was completely dark.
The bird outside let out a low cry and vanished into the night.
Arin sat there, breathing slowly, the cheerful mask already forming in his mind.