Pearl backed into the nearest bookshelf, her chest heaving.The message was still on her screen:
"Get out of the library. You won't find what you're looking for. He's already here."
Her fingers shook as she slid the phone into her pocket. She scanned the room—still no one. But the shadows between the shelves felt thicker now, like they were watching her too.
Suddenly, a soft click.
She turned. One of the bookshelves was slightly ajar. Not out of place—open. Like a hidden door.
She hesitated. Every rational part of her screamed to leave. But she was past that now. Past running.
Pearl stepped forward and pushed.The shelf gave way to reveal a narrow staircase leading downward into the dark. Dust swirled in the beam of light from her phone. She hesitated at the top, then descended.
Each step creaked.
As she reached the bottom, she found herself in a room—small, lined with old filing cabinets and yellowing newspaper clippings tacked to the walls. In the center, a desk. On it, an old notebook, its leather cover cracked.
Pearl approached it, flipping it open—
And froze.
Inside were notes. Names. Dates. Photographs. One of the names was hers.
And another—Vansh's.But not just that. A file. A school record. A psychiatric evaluation.
Subject shows signs of deep emotional dissociation. Witnessed traumatic event. Referred to Institute under silent code: "Pearl Protocol."
Her breath caught. Pearl Protocol? What the hell was that?
"You weren't supposed to see this."
The voice came from behind her—calm, cold, familiar.
Pearl whipped around, and there he was. Vansh.
Pearl:"What is this, Vansh? Why is my name here? What the hell is the Pearl Protocol?"
Vansh (quietly):"You were never meant to find out this way."
Pearl:"Then explain it. Because I swear to god, if you take one step closer without telling me the truth—"
Vansh:"You think I'm your enemy, Pearl? I've spent years protecting you from the real ones."
A beat.
Vansh:"They're not just watching you. They created you."
He stepped closer. She flinched. He stopped.
"You need to leave." His tone was flat, but there was an edge to it. Not threat—fear.
"No," she said, voice rising, "you don't get to do that. Not this time. You've been feeding me half-truths since the day we met. You knew something. You know something. So start talking."
For a moment, silence. Only the sound of her ragged breathing, the soft hum of rain against the old stone above them.
Vansh's eyes flicked to the open file.
"You're not just part of this," he said quietly. "You're the reason this place exists."
Pearl blinked. "What?"
He moved past her, slowly, and pulled a photograph from the wall—one she hadn't seen yet. He handed it to her.
It was her.Barely five years old.Standing beside a man in a white coat, smiling up at him with wide, unaware eyes.
The corner of the photo was stamped: Project Seraph. Phase I: Subject Pearl.
Pearl's blood turned to ice.
"That's not possible," she whispered. "I don't remember this."
"You weren't supposed to."
"And you? What about you?" Her voice broke. "What's your part in this? What are you? Another watcher?"
Vansh laughed once, bitter and low. "If I was just a watcher, I wouldn't be standing here warning you."
He looked at her then—truly looked at her. Not with the mask he always wore, but with a quiet, raw ache.
"You think I wanted this? I didn't choose to be part of your lie, Pearl. I was born into it. Trained to be your shield. Your shadow."
She stepped back."That doesn't make this okay."
"No," he said. "It doesn't. But it might just save your life."
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed again.
New Message from: love_peace"He's telling the truth. But not all of it."
She looked up. Vansh was already watching her screen.
His jaw tightened."We need to go. Now."
"No."
"Pearl—"
"You leave, Vansh. I'm done running. If they want me, they can come face me."
Another buzz. Her phone lit up again.
love_peace: "Then turn around."
Pearl froze.
The air in the room thickened.
Behind her… a soft footstep.
She didn't turn. Not yet.