Darkness.
Not empty, not silent—but alive.
It pulsed beneath Bella's skin as she fell, not through air, but through memory. She was no longer standing before Azarel. No longer clutching Kael's name in her mouth like a prayer.
She was inside herself.
And she was alone.
The world around her was shaped from glass and flame—every reflection a distorted version of her face. One screamed. One bled. One wore a crown of thorns and smiled like a monster.
In the center of it all stood a single door.
Ancient. Wooden. Carved with hundreds of names—some faded, some screaming from the surface. Her heartbeat dragged her toward it.
Her feet moved on instinct.
With each step, fragments of her life peeled off and fell—memories withering like petals. Her first kiss. Her rejection. Her rage. Her love. Her name.
When she reached the door, her hands trembled.
On its center was a mirror.
But it didn't show her face.
It showed a girl with no eyes.
She stood barefoot on ash, humming a lullaby Bella had forgotten she knew.
"Who are you?" Bella whispered.
The girl tilted her head.
"Don't you remember?" she said sweetly. "I'm the one who buried your name."
The ground cracked.
From the cracks spilled whispers—every word Bella had ever swallowed.
"You're weak."
"Unwanted."
"Not enough."
"Monster."
The girl in the mirror giggled. "You believed them. So you gave your name to Lilith. Let her wear it like armor. Let her bleed for you."
Bella backed away. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" the girl asked, stepping through the mirror.
She was small. Delicate. But her voice echoed with ancient wrath.
"You broke the Oath, Bella. You bound yourself to Azarel. You drank from the Chalice of Shadows."
Bella fell to her knees. "I was tricked."
"Power always costs," the girl said softly. "And now he's come to collect."
Bella raised her head.
"If I find my name… can I break the Oath?"
The girl smiled—cracked and crooked.
"Only if you speak it aloud."
"I don't remember it."
"No," the girl said. "But he does."
Suddenly, Bella was no longer alone.
Azarel stood in the void behind her, eyes burning brighter than suns.
"You were so beautiful when you obeyed," he whispered. "But rebellion suits you too."
Bella rose slowly.
"Tell me my name."
Azarel stepped closer, his voice curling like velvet around a dagger.
"You want it?" he whispered. "Then take it."
He held out his hand.
A wisp of smoke curled in his palm—and in it, a word. Glowing. Sacred.
It hurt to look at it.
Her real name.
The one she had locked away to survive.
Bella reached forward, every bone in her body screaming.
The moment her fingers grazed the name—her entire world exploded into light.
Bella has touched the truth—but can she survive it?
Next, she must decide: will she speak her name and shatter everything… or let Lilith and Azarel rule her forever?