Eva pushed herself up slowly from the couch, her legs shaky beneath her. The air felt wrong too warm and still, as if the house itself were holding its breath. Elara's voice still echoed from the kitchen, sweet as syrup. "Eva? Sweetheart! We have a guest!"
She swallowed hard and stepped forward, every movement stiff with caution. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wall as she turned the corner into the kitchen.
He was there.
Sitting casually at the small table by the window, elbows resting neatly, hands folded. A teenage boy at least, that's what he appeared to be. His features were smooth, symmetrical. His hair was tousled just enough, like a model's idea of messy.
He turned to her.
And smiled.
But it wasn't kind. It wasn't warm.
It was… deliberate. Sharp at the edges. A smile carved too wide, like someone trying to mimic comfort and landing squarely in menace.
Eva froze. Her breath caught. Her heart thundered in her chest.
"It's him," she thought, "I'm sure of it. The one I saw outside. The one Elara smiled at."
Her body trembled. "Am I just imagining it? she whispered inside her own head.
But her gut screamed the truth: he was real.
And he was already inside.
Elara's voice sliced through her panic like honeyed steel. "Eva, come, sweetie," she cooed, still stirring something in the pan. "Say hi to him."
The boy turned his head fully now. Still smiling.
And blinked.
Not with his eyes, but with his whole face. For just a split second, his features shimmered , like they weren't fully attached. Like they were borrowed.
Eva took a step back, her voice barely a whisper. "Who are you?"
The boy tilted his head.
The smile never faded.
And he said:
"I'm the answer your mother forgot to delete
Elara looked at him for a moment, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, then turned back to Eva with a gentle, chiding tone.
"Don't talk like that with elders, sweetie… You have to say hi and be respectful."
Eva's mouth tensed. Her gaze flicked back to the boy, no, not a boy. Something was off. But Elara was watching her expectantly, her hands still moving calmly over the stove.
"…Hi," Eva muttered, almost under her breath.
The boy smiled..pleasant, warm, almost bashful.
"Hi there," he said in a soft tone. "Didn't mean to scare anyone. I got a little turned around on the road, that's all. Cold out there."
Elara's expression immediately softened. "Oh, you poor thing. You're frozen," she said, stepping aside. "Come in. Sit. I've got something warm on the stove."
"That's very kind of you," the boy said, stepping inside and settling into one of the chairs. "People aren't usually this welcoming anymore."
Elara chuckled as she flipped something in the pan. "Well, you look harmless enough. And you've got good manners. Can't let someone freeze on our doorstep."
Eva didn't move. She stood in the hallway, stiff, watching him carefully.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Elara asked over her shoulder.
He paused for just a second too long. "Mael," he said finally.
"That's unusual " Elara said, then added quickly " but lovely. How old are you, mael ?"
"Sixteen" he said , meeting her gaze steadily .
" Just turned "
"Well, Mael," Elara said with a smile, "you're welcome here. Eva..why don't you grab the spare blanket from the top of the stairs? It's in the cedar chest."
Eva didn't answer. Her eyes were still locked on him. Elara turned, saw the look, and her smile faltered. "Eva. Please?"
She hesitated, then gave a stiff nod and slipped upstairs.
"Actually," Mael said gently, "if it's not too much trouble, Miss Elara… would you mind checking the attic for a moment? I dropped something out there earlier...looked like a small wooden box. Old, carved. I think it might've slid under the shelf."
Elara tilted her head, puzzled, but smiled again. "Of course, hon. You just sit tight."
Her footsteps faded down the hall, then up into the attic.
As soon as she was gone, the mask dropped.
Mael turned his head toward the stairs, calm, quiet. Eva reappeared, blanket forgotten.
He looked up at her with eyes that no longer pretended to be human.
"Your mother's very trusting," he said softly. "That's dangerous."
Eva stared at him. "You're not lost."
"No," he replied, voice still gentle. "But you are."
She didn't speak. He stood slowly.
"You've been slipping," he said. "Dreaming things you shouldn't. Seeing what's behind the walls."
Eva's jaw tightened. "What are you?"
"I told you...Mael," he said. "Or that's what I go by now. But I used to be something else. Before the Fold. Before she turned the key that locked me out."
He took a step forward. "You look just like her, you know. The real version. The first one."
Eva didn't move.
"What do you want?"
"I want what was promised to me," Mael said, still watching her. "Before your mother rewrote the world. Before she locked the gate and erased our names."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "You weren't supposed to exist, Eva. You're… a consequence. A living breach."
Her fingers clenched. Her jaw locked.
"There's something in you, Eva. A break in the code. A door," he whispered. "And soon, I'm going to need you to open it. Whether you want to or not."
"Why me?"
Mael tilted his head. "Because you were made for it. Because she lied to you. And because I'm not the only one who's waking up."
Above them, footsteps creaked. Elara was returning...folded blanket in her arms, a teacup clinking gently on a saucer. Her smile was bright, oblivious.
Mael's face changed instantly, soft, innocent, kind. He sat down again and smiled as Elara descended the stairs, brushing dust off her hands.
"Oh, you two made friends fast," she said cheerfully. "Are you taking your new friend to see your room, sweetheart?"
Eva didn't answer. She didn't move. Just stared at Mael.
Elara didn't seem to notice the tension.
"Couldn't find any box," she continued, laughing lightly. "You sure it was up there?"
"Maybe I imagined it," Mael replied with a sheepish grin. "The cold does strange things to memory."
Elara nodded sympathetically. "Well, you just stay as long as you need."
Eva didn't sit. Didn't blink.
And Mael… smiled back. "Thanks."
----------------------------
A few minutes later, Jian returned.
He stopped in the doorway, brows drawing together when he spotted the boy at the table. His steps slowed as he took in the unfamiliar figure, then shifted his gaze to Eva, silently asking what the hell is going on?
Eva scooted slightly, motioning for him to sit beside her. He did, eyes still locked on the boy.
Leaning in, she whispered, "I don't know who he is… but he's so freaking scary."
Jian blinked, then glanced at her again with concern. "Did something happen?"
Eva gave a single nod. "A lot."
The boy hadn't moved, but now his attention snapped toward them. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head and stared at Jian.
And smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile. It was too wrong.
Jian met it with a quiet, steady glare.
Then—
"Oh, breakfast is ready!" Elara's voice rang out as she re-entered the room, her tone too cheerful, too bright. She moved between them, breaking the tension with a practiced ease. "Thanks to Jian for helping me buy the eggs," she added with a pleased smile.
The boy tilted his head, almost mechanically.
"Jian?" he echoed, voice low.
Jian turned to him but didn't reply. Didn't even acknowledge the question.
Then—suddenly the boy froze.
His eyes widened, the smile faltering for the first time. His body locked, stiff, like he'd been jolted by something unseen. Eva saw it. Jian saw it. Elara, too focused on pouring tea, missed it entirely.
The porcelain clinked gently as Elara filled the cups.
Then, just as suddenly, the boy relaxed. Sat straight. Lifted his teacup calmly.
Eva and Jian exchanged a look.
Jian whispered, "Do you feel anything?"
Eva shook her head. "No pain."
Jian's voice dropped further. "It's the same freeze you had… when you felt Voox."
Eva nodded slowly, eyes never leaving the boy.
The boy took a slow sip of tea, then looked up and smiled again...this one more polite, practiced.
"It's delicious," he said gently. "Thank you, Miss Elara."
Elara smiled, oblivious. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
To be continue ...