POV: Aria
The Spirit energy crackled inches from my face.
I didn't think. My body moved on instinct—memories from a life I'd just remembered rushing through me. I dropped and rolled left as purple fire burned the wall where my head had been.
"She dodged?" Guard Two sounded shocked.
"Doesn't matter," Guard One said. "She's D-rank. This won't take long."
Wrong. I wasn't D-rank anymore.
I was someone who'd survived twenty terrible years in another world. Someone who'd clawed her way to the top of a business that destroyed most people. Someone who understood that the best tool wasn't strength.
It was making your enemy doubt you.
I stumbled backward, playing weak. Let them see the weak girl everyone expected.
"Please," I begged. "I don't understand. Who's the Mimic?"
Guard One laughed. "Dead girls don't need answers."
He lunged. Spirit energy wrapped around his fist like purple flame.
I waited until the last possible second. Then I grabbed a broken pipe from the alley trash and swung hard at his knee.
The crack echoed loud. He went down screaming.
"You little—" Guard Two started forward.
I ran.
Not toward the street. That's what they'd expect. Instead, I went deeper into the alley maze, using every route I'd learned from three years of living in the Rust District slums.
Behind me, their shouts faded. Spirit Warriors were strong, but most of them grew up rich and comfortable. They didn't know these streets like I did.
I didn't stop running until I reached my apartment building. The door hung crooked on broken hinges. Half the windows were closed up. But it was home.
Or it had been. For three more days.
I took the steps two at a time—the elevator had been broken for months—and burst into my room on the fourth floor.
The door locked behind me with a click that felt too final.
My apartment was one room. Bed against the wall. Tiny kitchen area with a hot plate that only worked sometimes. Bathroom the size of a closet. The whole place could fit inside Celeste's walk-in cupboard three times over.
But it was mine. Paid for with my own money from doing Spirit Warrior odd jobs. Research help. Equipment cleaning. The hard work nobody else wanted.
For three more days.
Then I'd be homeless.
I slid down the door until I hit the floor. My heart was still racing from the fight. From the thoughts. From everything.
Who was the Mimic? Why did they want me dead? And what did any of this have to do with Celeste?
My cracked tablet sat on the floor where I'd left it this morning. Back when my biggest problem was the Council meeting. Back when I thought things couldn't get worse.
I picked it up. The screen flickered to life, and I instantly wished it hadn't.
The top news story showed Celeste and Dominic at some fancy diner. She wore a dress that probably cost more than my full year's rent. He had his arm around her waist, smiling at something she said.
The title read: "War Commander and Research Prodigy Celebrate Engagement."
My finger hovered over the power button. I should turn it off. Stop torturing myself.
Instead, I opened my movie folder. Found the file I'd watched a thousand times and told myself I'd delete.
From two years ago.
Cherry buds fell like pink snow. Dominic knelt in front of me, holding a ring that sparkled in the sunset. His grey eyes—cold to everyone else—were warm when they looked at me.
"Aria Chen," he'd said. "You're the only person who sees me as more than the War Commander. You're the only one who makes me feel human. Will you marry me?"
I'd said yes. Obviously. Stupidly. Completely.
For three perfect months, I'd been the happiest person living.
Then everything changed.
Dominic started canceling our plans. Stopped taking my calls. When I finally trapped him at the Academy, he'd looked at me like I was a stranger.
"This was a mistake," he'd said. "You're D-rank, Aria. I'm S-rank. I need someone who can stand beside me as an equal. You're too weak. Too routine. Too... inadequate."
The words had hit like physical blows.
"But you said you loved me," I'd whispered.
"I was wrong." He'd turned away. "Don't contact me again."
Two weeks later, he was dating Celeste. My perfect, smart, A-rank sister.
Six months after that, they were engaged.
I watched the proposal video end. Watched younger-me smile with so much hope and trust. That girl had believed in happy ends.
That girl was an idiot.
My hands were shaking again. Not from fear this time. From rage so deep it felt like it would burn me alive from the inside.
They'd taken everything. My work. My place. My honor. The man I loved. Even my own studies and accomplishments.
What did I have left?
The memories from my past life whispered answers. Knowledge. Skills. Experience from a world that had understood fear in ways these people couldn't imagine.
In my old life, I'd been Raven Xu. Game designer. Creator of events so terrifying that forty countries banned them. I'd learned something fundamental: fear wasn't just an emotion. It was power. It was cash. It was a tool that could change minds.
And this world? This world actually ran on negative emotions. Spirit Warriors absorbed fear and anger and sadness to fuel their abilities.
They just did it so inefficiently. So wastefully.
I could change that.
But first, I needed to live the next three days. Find somewhere to go. Figure out who wanted me dead and why.
My tablet buzzed. A message notice.
Unknown number.
I almost deleted it. Probably more hate mail from people who'd seen the trial.
But curiosity won. I opened it.
Seven words. No writing.
Your sister isn't your sister. Check her blood.
My heart stopped.
What?
I read it again. And again. The words didn't change.
Another message popped up. Same number.
She's been draining you for seventeen years. The real Celeste died when you were six. What you see is wearing her skin.
Ice filled my veins.
No. That was crazy. Impossible.
But...
I thought about that look Celeste had given me in the Council room. Those too-bright eyes. That hungry expression that disappeared in a blink.
My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped the tablet.
A third message emerged.
Don't trust anyone. Especially not Dominic Ashford. He's known the truth for five years.
The room tilted. The walls felt too close. Too small.
My phone rang. Same mystery number.
I looked at it. Every instinct screamed not to answer.
I answered.
"Hello, Aria." The voice was male. Smooth. Almost kind. "We need to talk about what you really a
re. And why everyone you love has been lying to you since the day you were born."