The East Wing had been sealed off for years.
At least, that's what the school board told the students.
Red Widow knew better.
She slipped through the maintenance hall just before sunrise, dressed in black, her face half-covered beneath her hoodie. The halls smelled of dust, forgotten paper, and old power.
Her tablet pinged faintly in her bag — tracking the rogue signal that had hacked her own network.
She stopped at the rusted double doors labeled:
> " ARCHIVAL-- AURORA HIGH'S LEGACY "
With a breath, she picked the lock. It clicked open like it had just been waiting for her.
Inside: darkness. Shelves stacked with sealed boxes. Velvet folders. Portraits of long-dead tycoons glaring down at her like they knew what she was about to find.
Then — another ping.
Stronger.
She followed it past a shattered mirror and a boarded window until she reached a small steel cabinet. Locked with a biometric scanner.
But next to it…
**A file. Open. On purpose.**
She stepped closer and froze.
Inside were blueprints. Letters. Stamped with the Velasquez family crest.
And in the corner: a surveillance photo.
Of her.
Taken two days ago.
> "So this isn't just about Sera anymore," she whispered.
Her fingers hovered over the pages.
She read one. Then another.
It wasn't just Sera and Kairo.
There were more. Dozens.
**Students bread for power . Matched like assets . Watched like threats
Red Widow backed away. Her head spun.
Then she heard it.
A soft click behind her.
She turned.
A tall figure stood in the shadows. Face hidden. Gloved hand holding something metallic.
Not a gun.
A voice modulator.
And then it spoke — in a voice not fully human:
> "You've dug too deep, Widow. Time to decide… player or sacrifice?"
And the doors slammed shut behind her.
Her blood running cold . Planning to save herself from this mess .