Semua Bab CHAOS COLLEGE : Bab 41 - Bab 50

Morning light spilled across the campus as if nothing had ever happened. The glass was gone. The fractures in the world had healed. The air smelled of rain and cut grass. Birds sang. But Cade knew better. He stood on the steps of the Administration Hall, staring at the courtyard where reality had once collapsed. Everything had been rebuilt in a single night. Too perfect. Too symmetrical. Even the cracks in the pavement had mirrored patterns. And there—walking toward him—was Lila. Her hair fell the same way, her stride confident and alive. Her voice carried through the morning air, warm and certain. “Miss me, soldier?” He froze. For a heartbeat he almost believed it. Almost. Then she smiled. It was flawless. Too flawless. The faint scar she’d gotten during their last mission was gone. Her eyes—once electric with human chaos—were calm, glass-clear, reflecting the world like polished mirrors. “Lila?” She tilted her head. “Who else would I be?” Harper’s containment band on Ca

The sound of glass breathing was not a metaphor anymore. It was real.Cade could hear it—slow, rhythmic inhales and exhales through the fractured surfaces that stretched across the corridor. Each reflection pulsed like a living lung. His footsteps echoed too loudly, and every time he looked down, his reflection looked back a second too late.He told himself to keep walking.He told himself she was still alive.But the hallway was endless, the air tasted metallic, and the memories he carried didn’t feel like his own anymore.The Entity had gotten inside his mind.He could feel her there, sliding between thoughts, whispering through static. Sometimes her voice was soft, almost gentle. Sometimes it sounded like Lila’s.You wanted to save her,but what if she didn’t want to be saved?Cade stopped. The corridor was lined with mirror-shards embedded in black stone, glowing faintly. He caught a glimpse of Lila’s face in one—eyes wide, desperate.“Lila?”Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Darkness wasn’t empty here; it shimmered.The shattered bulbs above the deck dripped light like liquid glass, each drop hitting the floor with a faint hiss.The watcher—Dr. Maeve Harlan, though no one used her full name anymore—forced herself to breathe. “System restore,” she said into the mic. Nothing. The comm hissed like a dying thing.A pulse rippled across the glass wall separating her from Cade’s containment cell. The barrier’s blue outline flared once, then began to fade, as if the power core itself were forgetting how to hold a shape.He’s not the one you should fear…The voice echoed again, this time from the direction of the door.Maeve turned slowly. Her reflection in the metal surface of the observation console tilted its head a fraction late—just enough to make her stomach knot.“Security?” she called. “Anyone reading me?”No response.Then—footsteps. From inside the cell.She spun back toward the glass. Cade stood in the center of the room, the dim light catching on his

Cade awoke to silence. Or maybe it was the wrong kind of sound—the hum of a million reflections, each one whispering fragments of memory, fear, and doubt. The bridge, the tower, the flood—it was gone. Now he stood in a city that bent logic itself. Streets looped impossibly into the sky. Buildings leaned on one another like desperate friends holding up a collapsing ceiling. Light didn’t obey gravity. Shadows moved with intent.He stumbled forward, clutching the orb. Every step made the city ripple.You belong to me, a voice hissed, echoing from all directions.Cade froze. The Entity was here, somewhere, and everywhere.A street stretched before him—paved with mirrors. In each reflection, his own face stared back, but twisted: some grinning, some screaming, some bloody. All of them taunted him.“Lila!” he called, voice cracking. “Where are you?”She’s closer than you think… and farther than you can reach.He ran. The reflections warped, elongating into hands that clawed at his legs, fin

Cade stumbled forward, each step echoing against the fractured surfaces of the endless corridor. Mirrors stretched infinitely in every direction, reflecting him into hundreds of versions—some taunting, some screaming, some silent and hollow-eyed. Every reflection seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat, as if the corridor had a rhythm of its own, syncing with the faint, flickering pulse of the orb in his hands.The air smelled metallic, tangy, like old blood mixed with ozone. His lungs burned with every breath, but he kept moving, driven by the faint glow ahead—the only hint of Lila’s presence in this impossible labyrinth. Each reflection he passed shifted slightly, their eyes following him with unsettling precision. He recognized some: Maeve’s calm warning, Lila’s trusting smile, Adrian’s smirk. Each was twisted, distorted, exaggerated into a nightmare version of the person it represented. Cade swallowed the growing fear knotting his chest. The Entity was everywhere, and every reflect