No one thought the last seat could hide so many secrets.
No one, except her.

From the moment she chose the desk at the back of the room, Matilda knew — nothing would ever be the same again. The whispers, the glances, the threats... they pulled her deeper into a game she hadn’t even realized she was playing.

But that was only the beginning.

Beneath the shadows of school routine, something is awakening. Something old. And if the first book was about survival... this time, she must decide who she’s willing to become.

Because the last seat wasn’t random.
It was a summons.

And some will do anything to stop her from answering it.

Chapter 1

Matilda didn’t flinch.

Instead, she smiled.
Not a sweet, nervous smile — but the kind that made people step back without realizing why.

She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re right,” she said. “There is more to me.”

The boy blinked.

“And that should worry you.”

The hallway, once buzzing with distant chatter, suddenly felt quieter. 

 He opened his mouth to reply — but before he could, every light above them flickered. Just once. Then again.

Matilda didn’t even look up.

Her eyes stayed on him — calm, steady, knowing.

The silence stretched.

Then she turned her back to him, walked down the hallway like nothing had happened, and left him standing there with a question he wasn’t ready to ask:

What the hell is she?

The door to Room 17 creaked open as Matilda stepped inside.
The air was heavy — not just with dust and old wood, but with something else. Something that seemed to wait for her.

She barely made it two steps before a voice came from the shadows.

“You weren’t supposed to use it yet.”

Matilda froze.

A girl emerged from the far corner, dressed in the same uniform but older — sharper.

Her eyes scanned Matilda like she was a puzzle half-solved.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” the girl asked.

Matilda didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure herself.

But she felt it — the pull, the weight, the way the lights listened to her. Something inside her had shifted.

The girl stepped closer. “You’re not like the others.”

Matilda looked up. “Neither are you.”

Matilda stared at the girl, unsure whether to feel threatened or… curious.

“Who are you?” she asked finally.

The girl crossed her arms. “That’s not the right question.”

“Then what is?”

“What did you feel, when the lights flickered?”

Matilda hesitated. “Like… like everything was holding its breath. Like the hallway was listening.”

The girl gave a slow nod. “You’re awakening. Faster than expected.”

Matilda frowned. “Awakening to what?”

The girl stepped closer. “Power. Memory. Legacy. Call it whatever you want.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m Elara,” the girl said at last. “And I’m here to keep you from destroying everything—”

She leaned in. “—including yourself.”

Matilda’s voice dropped. “What am I?”

Elara’s eyes darkened. “You’re something we were told didn’t exist anymore.”

“No more riddles,” Matilda said sharply. “Tell me the truth. Now.”

Elara studied her for a long second. Then—she sighed.

“Fine. You want truth?”

She pulled something from her pocket — a small silver pin shaped like a circle, broken in one part.

“This symbol means you were chosen. Not by us. By something older.”

Matilda took a step back. “Chosen for what?”

“To remember what the rest of us forgot. To bring it back — or destroy it for good.”

Matilda stared at the pin. “Why me?”

Elara’s voice dropped. “Because you were born under the Eclipse. Like the others. Like the First.”

“The First?” Matilda echoed.

Elara hesitated, then leaned in, whispering like it hurt to say it.

“The one who started all of this.”

Matilda’s eyes widened, the weight of Elara’s words sinking in.

“The First,” she whispered. “Who was she?”

Elara looked away, shadows crossing her face.

“She was more than a student. More than anyone could imagine.
She held the original power—the one that shaped everything.”

Matilda’s heart pounded. “And now?”

“Now,” Elara said, voice low, “that power is waking up again. Inside you.”

A cold silence filled the room, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

“You’re not just a girl, Matilda. You’re the beginning of something that was thought to be lost forever.”

“What is this power?” Matilda asked. “Why me?”

Elara didn’t answer immediately. She looked at the broken circle pin in her hand, then closed her fist around it.

“Because your blood remembers. Even if you don’t.”

Matilda took a step closer. “What happens now?”

Elara hesitated. “Now? You hide it. You hide yourself. Until we figure out who else knows.”

Suddenly — a click.
The door behind them creaked.

Elara turned sharply. “We’re not alone.”

Matilda froze.

From the shadows near the doorway, a boy stepped out. Not the one from earlier — this one was taller, quieter, with dark eyes that didn’t blink.

“Too late,” he said. “They already know.”

Then, without warning, the windows shattered — all at once.
The air filled with dust, sharp wind, and a strange humming sound.

Elara grabbed Matilda’s wrist. “Run.”

They ran.

Down the hall, past empty classrooms and flickering lights. The air around them buzzed like static — like something was watching from everywhere at once.

“Who was that?” Matilda gasped.

“A Shadow,” Elara said. “A messenger. When one shows up—others follow.”

They turned a corner—
—and stopped.

Three more figures were waiting. No faces. Just silhouettes, like the light refused to touch them.

Matilda’s hands trembled. “What do we do?”

Elara didn’t hesitate.

She pulled a piece of chalk from her pocket and drew a quick circle on the floor.

“Stand inside,” she said. “And don’t move.”

As Matilda stepped into the circle, the shadows advanced.

But the moment they touched the edge — they stopped. Hissing. Burning.

“They can’t cross old magic,” Elara whispered.

Matilda turned to her. “And what exactly am I standing in?”

Elara looked her dead in the eyes.
“The same kind of symbol they carved into the walls when the First tried to seal them away.”

The shadows hissed louder, circling the glowing chalk line like vultures.

Then—one of them spoke.

Not with a mouth, but through the air itself.

Matilda’s breath caught in her throat. “What does that mean?”

Elara’s jaw clenched. She looked like she wanted to lie—but couldn’t.

“You want the truth?” she whispered. “Fine.”

She knelt beside Matilda, her voice trembling just slightly.

“The First... she wasn’t just a legend. She was real. A girl—sixteen—who held power no one could understand.”

Matilda stared. “And?”

Elara met her gaze.

“Her name was Thelra. And she disappeared in the final battle trying to seal the darkness.”

“Disappeared how?”

Elara exhaled.

“Some say she died. Others... say she was reborn. In a bloodline. Hidden. Protected.”

Silence.

Then—

“Your full name,” Elara said quietly. “Say it.”

Matilda hesitated. “Matilda Thelra Quinn.”

The shadows shrieked.

The chalk glowed brighter.

Elara closed her eyes. “Then it’s true.”

She looked up at her with something between awe and fear.

“You’re not just like the First.”

“You are her.”

Chapter 2

“No,” Matilda said, backing away. “That’s not possible. I’m not her. I’m thirteen. You said she was sixteen.”

Elara nodded slowly, still watching her closely.

“She was sixteen—when she vanished. But the power she carried didn’t die. It scattered. It waited.”

Matilda’s voice was shaking. “Waited for what?”

“A mind strong enough. A soul familiar enough. A time when the seal would start to crack again.”

Matilda looked down at her hands. They were trembling. “So… what, I’m a reincarnation?”

Elara hesitated. “Not quite.”

“You are you. But the part of her—the deepest part—never left.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“You were born with a memory that doesn’t belong to this lifetime. And soon… it will try to wake up.”

Matilda stared at her. “And what happens when it does?”

Elara’s expression darkened.
“Then you’ll have to decide who you really are—Matilda… or Thelra.”

“I don’t want to be her,” Matilda said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.
“I don’t care what power she had. I want to be me.”

Elara looked at her, not with pity — but with something close to respect.

“Then hold on to that,” she said. “Because soon, you’ll feel her… pushing through.”

Matilda swallowed hard. “How is that even possible? How can part of her be inside me and I don’t remember anything?”

Elara knelt beside her again. The broken circle pin was still in her hand.