The trial took place in a stern, concrete room, with no space for an audience or media spectacle. Everything was to be done in secrecy—no reporters, no outside world to learn the details of the case. Lucy had been transported from her cell early in the morning.

The cell was cold and damp, the fluorescent light flickering unevenly. Lucy sat on the cot, dressed in a black-and-white striped prison uniform. Her gaze was fixed on the blank wall, her face a mix of exhaustion and indifference. A guard opened the door with a metallic clank, his voice breaking her thoughts: "Get up. We're going."

Lucy rose without a word. Her steps were slow, as if each movement required immense effort. The guard shackled her hands in cuffs, the cold metal biting into her skin. "Move," he said curtly, leading her through the narrow, chilly corridors of the detention center.

The corridor was silent, only the echo of her steps bouncing off the walls. The guards watched her with unreadable expressions. Some of them had a mixture of pity and fear in their eyes—they knew who she was and what she had been through.

At the end of the corridor, two additional guards awaited alongside Adam Karski, the general of the criminal services. His posture was as straight and stern as ever, but when he looked at Lucy, there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Stay calm," he said quietly when she looked at him with a mix of uncertainty and tension. "It's just a formality."

Lucy nodded, though her heart pounded faster. Adam led her to an elevator that would take them to the upper floor, where the courtroom was located.

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and Lucy felt her stomach knot with nerves. The courtroom was austere—concrete walls, a long wooden table for the judge, and a small number of chairs arranged in a row. More guards waited at the entrance, opening the doors to let Lucy inside.

Philip Nowak sat on one of the chairs, his posture exuding calm and confidence as always. Beside him were several other high-ranking officials and lawyers.

The judge, an older man with sharp features and keen eyes, lifted his gaze from the documents he was reviewing. His eyes settled on Lucy, and his face showed a mix of weariness and sternness. "Miss Serafin... we meet again," he began slowly, weighing each word. "Last time, three years ago, you remembered nothing. Now, the situation is somewhat different."

Lucy lowered her gaze. She felt all eyes on her, as if everyone present was judging her in their minds.

The judge looked at the documents before him, his voice taking on a formal tone: "We will begin with the charges related to the death of your mother, Sarah Serafin. There is evidence that you were in the vicinity at the time of her death."

One of the lawyers began presenting the gathered evidence. The courtroom displayed security footage from the skyscraper's building. It showed the moment Sarah stood on the balcony, with Lucy running to her just a second too late. The footage clearly depicted Sarah climbing over the railing and jumping, with Lucy trying to stop her.

After a short recess, the judge announced the verdict: "Based on the presented evidence, the court finds that Lucy Serafin is not responsible for the death of Sarah Serafin. The charges of murder are dismissed."

Lucy closed her eyes upon hearing those words. She didn't feel relieved, however. The image of blood on the pavement and Sarah's last words still replayed in her mind.

The judge cleared his throat, drawing the attention of those present: "Now, let us move on to the matters concerning your past and the events related to the House of Roses."

Philip stood, interrupting the formalities: "Your Honor, I would like to propose that Lucy be placed under my direct care and supervision. I can ensure that her development and rehabilitation will be monitored in appropriate conditions."

The judge furrowed his brow, looking at Philip closely. "Are you aware of the responsibility that comes with this decision?"

"Absolutely," Philip responded firmly. "Lucy is not only my charge but also my student. I believe that with proper support, she can redeem herself."

The judge nodded and then looked at Lucy. "Miss Serafin, considering the circumstances, I have decided to uphold the decision from three years ago, taking into account the circumstances under which these 62 killings occurred. Therefore, you will be released from detention and placed under the care of Director Philip Nowak."

Before the case was officially closed, the courtroom doors burst open with a bang. Adam Karski entered, his face tense in a way no one in the room had ever seen before. "Your Honor, I apologize for the interruption," he began, looking at the gathered with a stern gaze. "But 'Mother' is dead."

A silence so deep fell over the room that the ticking of the wall clock could be heard. Everyone turned to Adam with expressions of disbelief and surprise. "What did you say?" the judge asked, lifting his glasses slightly as they had slid down his nose. "'Mother' was murdered in custody," Adam replied, his voice cold, almost mechanical. "We received confirmation just moments ago."

Lucy gasped, lifting her head. Her eyes widened, and an expression that was difficult to interpret appeared on her face—surprise, fear, perhaps even regret.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/3Rfy4r0n/462588660-9398127126886260-6120045623038348880-n.jpg]

The judge, unsettled by the new information, looked at the prosecutors, as if waiting for their reaction. "Your Honor," one of the prosecutors spoke, his voice filled with suspicion, "we cannot ignore the fact that Lucy Serafin had the greatest motive to get rid of 'Mother'."

"That's absurd," Philip interjected, leaning forward. His voice was firm but controlled. "Lucy was under constant surveillance in detention."

The prosecutor narrowed his eyes. "Maybe someone helped her? Are there any records proving she was in her cell at the time of the murder?"

At that moment, the guard responsible for monitoring Lucy stood up, saluting the judge before speaking. "Your Honor, as the guard in charge of monitoring Lucy Serafin, I can confirm that she was in her cell the entire time. There was no opportunity for her to leave the detention center."

The judge nodded, hearing these words. "Thank you for the clarification."

The prosecutor fell silent, though it was clear he was not satisfied.

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The judge leaned back in his chair and sighed. "In light of this information, the case is temporarily suspended. We will need more evidence to unravel this situation."

Philip looked at Lucy, who still sat motionless, as if she were not present in the room. Adam, still standing by the door, nodded in her direction, his gaze hard but showing a shadow of sympathy.

The judge continued, "At this moment, Lucy Serafin remains under the supervision of Philip Novak, who has personally proposed taking care of her and monitoring her actions."

The prosecutor gave Philip a skeptical look. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Philip did not respond, his expression was inscrutable.

Lucy felt the guards approaching her to escort her back. The judge concluded the session, and the courtroom began to empty.

After the hearing, Lucy was sent back to school with Philip. Walking through the corridors, she felt the students' gazes on her. Their whispers reached her like faint echoes, full of curiosity, fear, and judgment. Every word was like a prick. "That's her...", "Did you hear what she did?", "Is it possible?" She tried to ignore them, but every syllable echoed in her thoughts.

When she reached her room, she felt something was off. Inside, she found Cornelius and Isaac. Cornelius stood leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, trying to look indifferent. However, his eyes revealed relief as soon as he saw her. Isaac, on the other hand, looked tense, as if struggling with emotions.

"Lucy!" Isaac burst out, approaching her quickly. His face showed worry and guilt. "I'm sorry!"

He stopped in front of her, his hands clenched into fists. His breathing was heavy, as if every thought in his head was burning him from the inside.

"This is all my fault. I... I don't know how I could have..." His voice broke, and his shoulders sagged.

Lucy looked at him, her face tired, pain lurking in her eyes. She was silent for a moment before saying softly, "Isaac... what exactly happened at that stadium?"

The boy looked at her in surprise. Cornelius, standing to the side, also raised an eyebrow.

"But you saw..." Isaac began, but Lucy shook her head.

"I saw what you did. But I don't know... why." Her voice trembled. "I didn't expect something like that from you."

Isaac closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. For a moment, it seemed like he was battling with himself before he finally answered, "It wasn't fully me."

He sat heavily on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

"I need to tell you something. Something I had no idea about... until that day."

Lucy and Cornelius looked at each other, then back at Isaac. The atmosphere in the room thickened, each of his words seemed to carry the weight of a truth no one wanted to hear.

"A curse," he said finally, lifting his head. His gaze was empty, as if looking into the distance. "I carry it within me. And I think I always have."

Lucy furrowed her brows, keeping her eyes on him. "A curse?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Isaac confirmed, his voice barely audible. "My family is cursed, to lose everyone we love... But I didn't know it had its own consciousness... It took over then."

Cornelius stepped closer, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at him in disbelief.

"I knew you were acting off, but I was waiting for you to tell me what's going on... So you have another personality in you?"

Isaac looked at him with a hint of a smile but quickly suppressed it. "I don't know, Cornelius. But it talks to me."

Lucy gasped, her hands clenching into fists.

"What does it say?"

Isaac stood, looking at his hands as if trying to see something invisible to others. "At the stadium... it said I was pathetic. That I couldn't die yet because I hadn't suffered enough." His voice broke, but he quickly composed himself. "But that's not all. Even now... I hear it. Sometimes it whispers, sometimes it screams. It tries to convince me to..." he trailed off, unable to finish.

"To what?" Cornelius asked sharply, though concern was evident in his voice.

Isaac took a deep breath. "To let it out."

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Finally, Isaac raised his hand and focused. White energy began to gather in the air, swirling around his hand. Soon, a massive sword, glowing with blinding spiritual energy, appeared in his grasp.

"This is my weapon," Isaac said softly, looking at the sword with a mix of pride and fear. "The curse allowed me to summon it. I didn't even know I could do it until it took control."

Lucy looked at the weapon, then at Isaac, her eyes filled with a mix of terror and compassion.

"And now?" she asked, her voice tense.

"Now..." Isaac looked at her with determination. "I have to learn how to live with it. And how to control it. Because if I don't... something worse than what happened at the stadium will occur."

The Next Day – 5:00 AM

The sound of shoes tapping on the stone floors echoed through the dormitory hallway, breaking the early morning silence. Jian, with his hands behind his back, walked slowly, tapping his cane on the floor from time to time, as if to emphasize the weight of his steps.

"Wake up! Everyone in the hallway!" he called out, his voice reverberating through the entire building.

One door opened almost immediately. Cornelius, dressed and ready, was the first to come out, yawning broadly but with a slight smile on his face. Shortly after, Maya appeared, followed by Lucy. However, the others were far from ready—doors opened lazily, and students in pajamas, sleepy and disoriented, emerged from behind them.

"Sir... It's five in the morning," Tommy groaned, holding a blanket like it was his shield against the world.

"I know what time it is," Jian replied coldly, his tone showing no hint of sympathy. "That's why I called the gathering now. Besides, life doesn’t wait for your convenience."

image [https://i.postimg.cc/d0hhspqP/462584013-3457309164565569-8484528979793705586-n.jpg]

When everyone finally stood in the hallway, Jian looked at them with his head held high.

"Due to recent events, some individuals in this class have reached a higher level of skill," he announced, his voice stern. "We will divide you into two teams."

The students exchanged worried glances, and Tommy sighed heavily, wiping his sleepy eyes.

"The first team," Jian continued, ignoring the reactions, "consists of those who can summon their spiritual weapon. Cornelius Mickiewicz."

Cornelius raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Lucy Serafin."

Lucy looked at Jian, her face remaining calm.

"And... Isaac Piłsudski."

These words caused a stir. All eyes focused on Isaac, who stood still, looking at Jian with a mix of pride and anxiety.

"What?!" Makoto exclaimed, throwing his hands up. His tone was full of indignation. "How is it possible that this idiot is at a higher level than me?!"

Jian squinted, looking at Makoto. "During the last attack on the school, he managed to summon his weapon. Maybe he has more talent than you thought."

Makoto clenched his fists but said no more.

"The second team," Jian continued, "consists of those who need intensive training to understand their powers and learn to fully utilize them. Maya Moniuszko, Anna Sendler, Makoto Kobayashi, and Tommy Evans."

Surprise was evident on the faces of the second group, but no one dared to protest.

"You four are going on special training outside the school walls," Jian said, looking down at them. "The training will last a week. You have thirty minutes to pack. We meet at the gate."

"What about us?" Cornelius asked, pointing to himself, Isaac, and Lucy.

"You," Jian replied with a hint of a smile, "have other concerns now, don’t you?"

Tommy groaned in irritation, and Anna smiled slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Makoto, though still clearly displeased, cast one last angry glance at Isaac before everyone headed to their rooms to prepare for the journey.