Alicia lay on the bed, pale and still. Her arm was wrapped in a makeshift bandage, soaked with herbs and dried blood. Her forehead was damp with sweat. She breathed shallowly, but steadily.
Nadia sat beside her, motionless for over two hours. She clutched her great-grandmother's journal to her chest—the very same one she had used to read the ritual. She trembled.
"She said it would work… if the circle was complete," she whispered into the air, more to herself than anyone else.
Natan stood by the wall, fists clenched. His shirt was torn at the side, revealing a fresh bruise beneath. He was barely holding himself upright.
"Maybe the circle was complete… only it was too strong," he said, bitterness in his voice. "Maybe we were the naive ones."
"It's not like that," Nadia said softly. "It's Leon… he tried to resist until the end. But the General… he destroyed him from within." She looked at Natan, her pupils wide. "And now what? Tomorrow morning we just… go back to class? Pretend Leon's dead, and that whatever's walking around looking like him isn't him at all?"
Natan shook his head.
"First, we get Alicia back on her feet. Without her… we won't make it. Then…" He hesitated. "Then we get something we don't have. Something your great-grandmother didn't have, Nadia. Something that can really hurt him."
"Something?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
Natan drew a deep breath.
"His true name."
Nadia stared at him in surprise.
"In your great-grandmother's journal… it was erased," he added. "Deliberately. Because if anyone learns the true name of the General's spiritual form, they can bind him. Or destroy him."
Nadia looked away.
"So we go deeper. To the source. Where even Hannah didn't dare to go."
Natan let out a low groan.
"Great. Ghosts again. And underground. Just what I love."
Nadia gave him a weak smile. Then Alice stirred slightly.
"…Leon," she whispered. "Don't let him… take him…"
Nadia took her hand.
"We won't. I swear. We'll get him back."
Alicia opened her eyes for a brief moment, as if only to look at Nadia's face.
"He'll… try to deceive you."
"We know," Nadia nodded. "But we're learning too."
***
Sunlight spilled over the stone paths. The trees around the boarding school shivered in the light breeze, and the still-drowsy students gathered before the building for morning announcements.
Leon stood in the shadows. A faint shadow of a smile played across his face. His hands were crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the small group of students—seemingly innocent. But Natan, who knew him best, could already feel something was wrong. Leon always held himself straight. Now… his posture was too rigid, too controlled. He looked at people as someone who doesn't know them but is trying to mimic them. Like an actor on stage.
Natan approached cautiously.
"Hey… alive? You weren't around after the ritual yesterday. I thought… something happened, that you weren't yourself anymore."
Leon lifted his gaze.
"I was sleeping," he replied with a cold smile. "These dreams have been exhausting me lately."
"Dreams?" Natan frowned.
"Mm-hm." Leon stretched lightly, but the motion was mechanical, as if his body was just learning the movement. "You know, maybe there's just too much going on in this school. Too many secrets."
Natan smiled nervously.
"Well, you always did have an eye for strange things. Just remember, we still have biology. I wouldn't want to explain to the teacher again that 'ghosts' distracted you."
Leon chuckled softly. Too softly.
A few steps away, Nadia watched closely. She stood beside Alicia—still weak, her arm in a sling, but upright. Both of them tracked the behavior of the boy who had been their ally just days ago.
"He's not blinking," Alicia whispered.
"What?" Nadia narrowed her eyes.
"For several minutes… not once."
Leon turned to them abruptly, as if he had heard.
"Girls," his voice was perfectly calm. "Nice to see you again. How are you feeling?"
Alicia straightened, lifting her chin. Nadia fought to suppress the tension coiling in her body.
"Better," she answered cautiously. "And you? Are you alright… after everything?"
Leon took a few steps, stopping before them.
"I feel perfect. As if… someone lifted a weight from my shoulders." He smiled. "It's good sometimes to wake up and know who you really are."
Alicia and Nadia exchanged a brief, uneasy glance.
Natan looked to the side, pretending to tie his shoe, but in secret he pulled something from under his hoodie—a small silver protective talisman they had retrieved from Nadia's great-grandmother's book. He held it tightly, ready.
Leon—or rather, the General—didn't notice. Not yet.
"Well," he said, looking at Nadia with a disturbing gleam in his eyes, "I have a feeling some of you are still in for an awakening. But everything in its time."
He turned and walked away.
And as he disappeared around the corner, the tension fell like the calm after a storm.
"He's not him," Alicia whispered, her voice low. "It's not Leon anymore."
"Worse," Nadia added. "It's the General… and he knows who we are."
***
Room number 3 on the second floor was one of those classrooms that were always too quiet. Thick walls muffled sounds from outside, and the tall windows let in only cold, diffuse light. The air smelled of chalk and dust.
"Who can give me an example of the symbolic meaning of light in Romanticism?" asked the professor, a man with dark circles under his eyes and a voice that always sounded as if it were two words away from sleep.
Leon was usually not a diligent student, but he was never rude. Yet today he leaned nonchalantly against a chair, one leg crossed over the other, twirling a pen in his hand like a knife.
"Maybe it means that light is…" someone in the front began timidly.
"Oh, please," Leon interrupted, stretching the words with a smirk. "Do we really have to talk about such crap as if we had no bigger problems?"
Silence fell over the class.
The man looked up from his notes.
"Leon, if you want to speak, you can wait your turn."
Leon shrugged, still smiling.
"Only my 'turn' never comes, right, Professor? You prefer those who sit quietly, nod, and never ask uncomfortable questions. Or maybe you just don't like it when someone actually thinks."
Nadia felt her stomach tighten. She sat a row behind him, biting the inside of her cheek. This wasn't Leon. He had never spoken to anyone like this—certainly not a teacher.
Alicja cast her a brief, sharp glance. Her eyes were narrowed, alert.
The professor straightened, frowning.
"Leon, please… behave appropriately. If you have any issues, raise them after class."
"Or maybe now?" the boy smiled even wider, leaning slightly over the desk. "Maybe we should all hear you passionately quote people who have long since rotted in the ground?"
Tension thickened in the room. A few students turned away. Natan did not take his eyes off Leon. He froze over his notebook, unsure if this was a joke or the beginning of something serious.
"That's enough," the man said firmly. "If you have a problem, leave the room."
Leon paused. For a split second, something flickered across his face—a shadow of irritation, maybe even anger—but he smiled again. This time, coldly.
"Of course, Professor. Always a pleasure to hear your monologues. Truly." He stood, stretching theatrically, and walked to the door. "Maybe I'll come back when you talk about something more… alive."
The door slammed shut behind him with a dull thud.
Silence reigned.
"What… was that?" someone whispered from the back.
The professor looked shaken but tried to return to the lesson.
"Open your textbooks to page fifty-six…"
Nadia lowered her gaze to her notebook, but she saw nothing. Leon was close. Too close. And his shadow grew longer.
***
The school was slowly quieting down. Most students were heading to dinner or returning to their rooms. Nadia, carrying her notes and a book, made her way toward the library. She took a shortcut rarely used—the corridor behind the old chemistry classroom, with windows looking out onto the dead meadow.
The footsteps behind her were quiet. Too quiet.
She turned instinctively. No one was there. Only the lamp's light flickered on the wall. She quickened her pace.
Then something grabbed her arm and yanked her with a force that left no choice.
"Leon?!" she managed to gasp before the door of the empty room slammed behind them with a crash.
He pressed her against the wall. His face, his body… and yet there was nothing familiar about him. His eyes were cold, absent. His lips twisted into a satisfied half-smile.
"Hanna," he whispered. "Finally alone. Just like before."
Nadia held her breath. Her heart pounded wildly.
"I'm not Hanna," she said quietly but firmly. "I don't belong to you."
The General leaned over her, his voice full of satisfaction.
"Your soul is the same one I touched when people still believed they could escape destiny. You always ran. Hid behind these eyes, behind these tears… But now you are here. And no one will save you."
His hand slid along her shoulder—not in affection, but in control. As if testing what he could access. As if checking whether the body responded to the memory of his obsession.
Nadia clenched her teeth.
"Leon will destroy you. Sooner or later. Alan betrayed you once already. He will do it again."
That stopped him for a moment. A shadow passed over his face. His fingers froze on her wrist, gripping it tighter.
"He thinks he is strong. But he is still in me, whether he wants it or not. And your heart, Hanna… your heart has always been weak."
"My heart is not yours. It never was."
His face moved even closer. His eyes glowed with a wild light.
"You will be mine. Again. And this time I will not let you disappear."
At that moment, the door shook. Someone pulled the handle from the other side. Natan? Alicja?
Nadia seized the split-second distraction to kick him in the knee. He cried out—not from pain, but surprise—and stepped back. She broke free and ran for the door.
The door flew open violently. Alicja burst inside, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Leave her alone!" she shouted.
Leon—no, the General—smiled coldly.
"So, we start the game again, yes? Very well. Let's see what remains of the old circle."
Nadia slid down the wall, trying to catch her breath. Alicja was already at her side, holding her tightly.
"He… he knows everything," Nadia whispered. "He remembers me. He loves, but it's not love. It's… a prison."
Alicja hugged her tighter.
"We won't give him to you. Not now. Never."