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CHAPTER 3 The scent of cinnamon stirred Sophia from her slumber. She blinked, the early morning light filtering into her room as she sat up. Pulling the covers aside, her feet brushed the cool wooden floor, sending an uncomfortable shiver through her body. “Ugh,” she muttered, rubbing her neck where tension knotted beneath her skin. “Not the best way to start the day.” On her nightstand, FERN—the small automaton—let out a soft, gentle chime as its silver wings unfolded. It blinked its mechanical eyes, as if it almost understood her. Lilith’s voice came through the door, a bit muffled, as the sound of dishes echoed down the hallway. “Breakfast will be ready soon, dear.” “I’ll be there in a minute,” Sophia called back, already pulling on her well-worn jacket, covered in colorful patches from her travels. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and her reflection looked back with an expression she didn’t quite recognize. Maybe it was determination. Or something close to it.“Today’s the day,” she whispered, her hand brushing through her loose brown hair before tying it back into its usual ponytail. “Today we find answers.” Just as she was about to step out of her room, she heard Lilith again, softer this time, closer. “Everything alright, Sophia?” Sophia paused at the door, fingers hovering over the handle. “Yeah,” she replied, but her voice lacked the certainty she wanted to project. “I just... miss him.” The words hung between them like a thick fog. Sophia could almost hear her mother’s heart ache on the other side of the door. After a beat, Lilith responded, her tone measured and gentle. “It’s only natural. He was such a big part of who you are. But remember, he’s still with us in so many ways.” Sophia nodded, though her mother couldn’t see. Her eyes darted to FERN, its small body perched on the nightstand, a quiet observer. “Sometimes, it feels like FERN understands me better than anyone,” she admitted with a half-hearted smile. “At least, when I’m feeling... lost.” The door creaked open, and Lilith’s presence filled the room like a calming breeze. Her mother’s eyes, soft and warm, locked onto Sophia’s. “Lost?” Sophia shrugged. “Figuratively speaking,” she clarified, though the unease bubbling within her was anything but metaphorical. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Dad was still here. If things were different.” Lilith stepped closer, her hand reaching out to clasp Sophia’s. The comfort of her touch was as familiar as the cinnamon that wafted through the house, but it couldn’t chase away the heaviness Sophia felt. “He’s always with us,” Lilith said. “In ways we can’t always see.” “Maybe we should talk about something else,” Sophia suggested, her gaze shifting away, trying to steer the conversation from the ache that lingered too close to the surface. “Dreams, maybe?” A faint smile curled at the edges of Lilith’s lips. “Dreams?” she echoed. “Anything interesting?” Sophia hesitated, the vivid image of the orchard still fresh in her mind. “Yeah... I had a dream last night. There was an orchard, filled with trees. Blossoms everywhere, the colors so bright it was almost overwhelming. But then—” Her voice faltered. She bit her lip, glancing at her mother, searching for reassurance in her gaze. Lilith’s brow furrowed as she waited, patient and attentive. “And?” “Dad was there,” Sophia whispered, the words heavy with emotion. “But he wasn’t like I remembered. He stood by a twisted, dark tree, which was nothing like the others. He looked... sad.” Lilith’s face softened, her own memories flickering in her eyes like a distant light. She didn’t speak for a moment, as if weighing her response. When she did, her voice was low, almost contemplative. “I’ve had dreams like that too, you know. Dreams where he’s there, but it feels like he’s far away, even though he’s right in front of me.” Sophia’s heart gave a small jolt. “You have?” Lilith nodded. “Sometimes I see him near that same tree. It’s like he’s trying to tell me something, but the meaning is just out of reach.” They stood in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken thoughts swirling around them. Outside the window, the sun climbed higher, spilling light into the room and casting long shadows across the floor. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but Sophia could feel the strain beneath it—both of them teetering on the edge of grief, of hope, of something they couldn’t quite name. “I wonder if there’s a message in those dreams,” Sophia said Lilith’s eyes flicked to the window, her expression distant. “Maybe. Or maybe they’re just our minds trying to make sense of something we can’t control.” Sophia wasn’t sure which answer was more comforting. She straightened, shaking off the lingering heaviness. “We should get going,” she said, a slight shift in her tone as she reached for her pack. FERN chirped from the nightstand, sensing the movement and flitting its wings in anticipation. Lilith smiled, watching as Sophia gathered her things. “I packed some food for the journey,” she said, her voice lighter now. “And a few other essentials. You never know what the day might bring.” “Thanks, Mom,” Sophia replied, slinging her pack over her shoulder. FERN hopped into the pouch at her hip, tucking itself inside. As they stepped out into the bright morning, Sophia felt a sense of resolve settle into her bones. Whatever today brought, whatever answers they uncovered, she knew one thing: she wasn’t alone in the search. As Sophia stepped out of the house, she felt the low hum of Level Four vibrating through the cobblestones beneath her feet. She pulled her coat tighter, feeling the familiar weight of FERN, her small automaton, nestled in her vest pocket. Its gentle ticking giving her a sense of comfort she couldn’t quite explain. Lilith walked a few steps ahead, each step firm. The glowing plants on the walls cast a soft light, sending gentle shadows over the familiar streets. “Keep your eyes open, Sophia,” Lilith said, her voice calm but serious. She spoke like someone who had faced more than a few challenges. “You can learn something, even in the most ordinary places.” Sophia glanced at her mother, noting how she seemed to take in every detail around them, her gaze sharp and focused. The old marketplace came into view, a mix of faded memories and lingering strength. Sunlight, faint and filtered through the Level’s artificial sky, blended with the glow of the plants, casting light on the cobblestones below. It was a strange mix, the old world holding on under the bright spark of new things. “Things sure have changed since the explosion,” Lilith said, looking over the sparse stalls. There was a hint of sadness in her voice, the kind that sank deep and made the air feel heavier. Sophia followed her mother’s gaze, noticing the empty spaces where vendors used to be. The market, once alive with laughter and lively trades, now seemed quieter, with fewer sellers and more lined faces showing the wear of time. “Many of the vendors we knew came from different levels. Now, we struggle to produce items at the same pace and volume,” Lilith murmured, her tone almost apologetic, as if she carried the burden of this decline. Sophia let her eyes wander over the stalls that were still open. She saw vibrant textiles, woven in detailed patterns that hinted at lands long forgotten. There were also mechanical trinkets, tiny and precise, shining under the soft light. And then there were tools—old but advanced—crafted for purposes that seemed lost to time. Excitement bubbled up in Sophia’s chest when she spotted a stall with something amazing. She grabbed her mother’s arm and tugged her toward a small, plain table. “Look, Mom! They have mini Discontinuity generators.” Her voice held a mix of awe and worry. “Isn’t it dangerous if everyone starts messing with time?” Lilith smiled in that knowing way of hers, both reassuring and cautionary. “Yes, time manipulation can be risky. But the Visionaries keep a close watch on those devices. They’re not meant for big changes, just small conveniences.” She glanced at the generators. “They’re made to make life easier, not to mess up everything.” Sophia frowned, looking back at the generators. Her mind was already racing with the potential outcomes. “I guess that makes sense,” she murmured, though a bit of doubt lingered in her thoughts. As they walked through the market, Sophia felt more awake. She began noticing things she might have missed earlier. She could hear students chatting nearby, their lively talks about unity, tradition, and new ideas adding a kind of background music. The air felt full of hope and promise. “We’re here.” Lilith’s voice pulled Sophia from her thoughts, and she turned to face the grand entrance of the Hall of Learning. The enormous doors loomed ahead, with intricate carvings that held stories from long ago. ———- “Mom?” she began, her voice tentative. “Can you tell me more about how you and Dad met?” Lilith’s eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She led Sophia to an alcove near a stained-glass window, where two carved wooden benches faced one another. They sat, and the light filtering through the glass painted them in hues of gold and violet. Lilith’s gaze drifted upward, as though searching the air for fragments of a memory long held. “We were both drawn to the same text. It was an old, brittle thing, the kind of book no one else would bother with.” She chuckled. “But there we were, reaching for it at the same time. And in that moment...” Sophia could almost see it, the brush of hands, the sudden spark. She leaned in, captivated by the tenderness in her mother’s voice. “It was like the world paused, just for a second. Everything else... it faded away.” Lilith stopped, and the silence grew heavy with feelings. Sophia put her hand over her mother’s, trying to comfort her in the only way she knew. Lilith let out a soft laugh, breaking the moment. “Oh, look. I’m late for the Retired Messengers’ ceremony.” She stood up and smoothed her coat. “But we’ll talk again soon. I want to hear all about your discoveries when we meet for lunch.” Sophia nodded, standing as well. She allowed herself one last hug, a moment of shared warmth, before they parted ways. As she watched her mother walk away, the familiar weight of FERN shifted against her chest, a reminder that her own journey had only just begun. The scent of worn leather and dust hung in the air as Sophia’s fingers traced the jagged lines of a crack along the wall. Her senses had sharpened the further she ventured into the Hall of Learning, where time seemed to suspend itself among the artifacts and forgotten relics. Each step she took echoed through the narrow hallways, as though the walls themselves whispered in response. “Trust your instincts,” she muttered under her breath. It had been something her mother often told her, a mantra passed down in moments of hesitation. But this time, it wasn’t just her mother’s voice. Something deeper pulled at her—a quiet, insistent call leading her toward an unexplored corner of the building. Sophia paused at the entrance of a vast chamber, larger than she’d expected. Here, someone had stacked ancient scrolls and journals almost haphazardly, with the yellowed pages crumbling at the edges. The dim light filtered through small, stained-glass windows above, casting an eerie, multicolored glow across the room. Her gaze swept the shelves, where the titles had long faded from the spines. “Hello?” Her voice muddled, swallowed by the towering shelves around her. She moved forward, tentative but eager, the soft sound of her footsteps a solitary rhythm in the otherwise silent space. Sophia’s eyes flicked to a weathered book tucked beneath a pile of parchment, its edges frayed with age. She pulled it free with delicate fingers, the weight of centuries settling in her hands. There was something different about this one, something personal—almost sacred. It didn’t belong with the others. “Could this be…?” she whispered to herself as she opened it. The first page greeted her with notes written in an elegant, looping script, accompanied by sketches—maps, diagrams, inventions she couldn’t quite understand. Her breath hitched as she recognized some of the handwriting from her father’s notes. ————— As Sophia opened the journal, the old pages rustled under her fingers. Her father’s handwriting filled each page, neat and careful, though the ink was faded with age. Diagrams, calculations, and notes filled the margins. A soft light from the small window cast a warm glow over the pages, making the words almost seem alive. Sophia’s breath caught, and her heartbeat quickened as she turned the pages. She stopped when her eyes landed on a strange symbol, sketched in the corner of one page. It looked like a geometric pattern, but it gave off a feeling of something ancient, something deep. Sophia squinted, her heart racing. She had seen this symbol before—on the back of one of her mother’s journals. Her hands shook a bit as she flipped to the next page, where her father’s thoughts appeared in a hurried, messy scrawl. _"The Discontinuity is more than we thought. Lilith is certain it’s not just a fracture in time—it’s something far older, far more dangerous. If we’re right... if the Visionaries find out..."_ Sophia’s heart raced. Her mother, Lilith, had always kept her work a secret, especially in her final days. Sophia remembered the quiet talks between her parents late at night, and how her mother would vanish into her study for long hours. Lilith often came back looking tired and uneasy. It hadn’t been just an illness that took her—there was something more, something darker. Sophia held the journal tightly as memories of those last days rushed back. Lilith had grown weak, her bright green eyes had lost their sparkle, and her skin had turned as pale as the sterile walls of the medical bay. The sickness had come on fast, confusing the Community’s doctors. But now, as Sophia read her father’s words, a grim truth settled in her mind—her mother’s illness wasn’t natural. It was tied to her work with the Discontinuity.Turning the page, Sophia’s breath caught in her throat as she came across a letter, folded neatly and tucked between the worn pages. She hesitated for a moment, staring at the folded paper, its edges yellowed with age. With a trembling hand, she opened it, her father’s distinct handwriting unfurling across the page. _"Lilith is convinced the Visionaries know more than they’re telling us. Her research into the Discontinuity... it’s dangerous. She’s already showing symptoms. But we’re so close. If we can uncover what they’ve been hiding, we could change everything. It could free us from their control, but the cost... I’m not sure it’s worth it."_ Sophia’s hands shook. The weight of her parents’ work—and the consequences they faced—pressed heavily on her chest. She had always believed her mother had died from some rare illness, but now she knew the truth. Her mother had been exposed to something in the Discontinuity, something the Visionaries had either created or uncovered and were keeping hidden from the rest of the Community. Something that had killed her. “Why didn’t they stop?” Sophia whispered to herself, the words catching in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of her mother, once vibrant and full of life, reduced to a shell of her former self by the time the illness took hold. And her father—he had known, had watched her mother deteriorate and still pressed forward with the research. Sophia flipped through the journal more frantically now, searching for any clue, any detail that could explain the lengths her parents went to. Finally, she found a page filled with a series of hastily drawn notes. “We were wrong. The Discontinuity isn’t just about time—it’s changing life itself. The Visionaries knew this. They’ve known for years. Lilith’s exposure wasn’t an accident. They’re watching us. They want us to keep working, but they’re waiting for us to cross a line. If we go any further, there’s no turning back.” Sophia gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her parents hadn’t just been studying the Discontinuity—they had been used by the Visionaries, pushed to test the limits of what was possible. And her mother had paid the price. She sank into the chair, too weak to stand. For so long, she had believed her parents were heroes, working to make things better for the Community. Now, she saw they had been trapped in lies, their good intentions twisted by the Visionaries for their own dark plans. “What was it all for?” she whispered, staring at the journal as if it could answer her. The pain in her chest tightened, a searing ache of grief and anger. The Visionaries had not only taken her parents’ lives—they had stolen their purpose, twisted their legacy. Sophia’s mind was racing, spinning with all the implications. The Visionaries had known about the dangers of the Discontinuity from the start. They might have even set up the situation that led to her mother’s exposure. And now, they were still hiding the truth. If they had been willing to sacrifice Lilith to keep control over the Community, what else were they covering up? She jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. She had to do something. This wasn’t just about finding the truth for herself—it was about stopping the Visionaries. She couldn’t let them keep manipulating things or risk anyone else who dared to question them. Sophia clenched her fists, the weight of her parents’ legacy pressing down on her. If her father had known how dangerous their work was, why had he continued? Had he believed there was something more to uncover? Something that could truly free the Community? Her gaze fell on the final pages of the journal. Her father’s handwriting had grown messier, more frantic. _”I have to protect Sophia. Lilith wouldn’t have wanted this for her. If the Visionaries find out how much we know... I have to stop them."_ Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. Her father had known the Visionaries were coming for him. His disappearance wasn’t an accident. It was premeditated. He had been trying to shield her from the same fate that had taken her mother. Suddenly, everything became clear. The urgency her father had felt, the abrupt way he had vanished—he had been trying to buy her time. Time to uncover the truth. Time to understand what her mother had died for. Her chest tightened with resolve. She could no longer be passive, waiting for answers to come to her. She had to continue what her parents had started. But this time, she wouldn’t allow the Visionaries to control the narrative. She would find out what they were hiding, and she would expose it—no matter the cost. She turned a page and gasped. Between the brittle sheets was a folded map, worn but detailed, with ink that still looked fresh. As she opened it, the details came into focus: passages, tunnels, secret rooms—hidden paths stretching beyond anything the Community had known. Sophia closed the journal and slipped it into her bag. She looked out the window, seeing the sun low on the horizon. There was no going back. She would find the truth about the Discontinuity, her parents’ work, and the Visionaries’ lies. Her eyes landed on the old clock on the wall. Its soft ticking brought her back to the present. Almost lunchtime. Sophia’s mind buzzed with excitement as she tucked the map back into the journal and clutched it to her chest. She hurried through the winding halls, her thoughts swirling with possibilities. “Mom’s going to want to hear about this,” she thought, quickening her pace. The Hall’s heavy doors opened to a courtyard bathed in sunlight, the warmth a stark contrast to the cool, musty interior. Lilith stood beneath a tree, her serene figure framed by dappled light filtering through the glass ceiling above. “Sophia.” Her mother’s voice was soft and welcoming as she turned to face her daughter. Her eyes lit up—she always knew when Sophia had found something big. “You look like you’ve uncovered something amazing,” Lilith said with a smile. “Mom, you won’t believe what I found,” Sophia exclaimed, pulling a worn journal from her bag. The leather cover looked old and mysterious, as if it held a secret. Lilith raised her eyebrows and stepped closer. “Let me see.” Sophia opened the journal with reverence, and then she flipped to the page where the map was nestled. Her fingers hovered above the lines, tracing the contours of paths and markings that had gone unnoticed for who knows how long. “It’s a map,” She. “Hidden tunnels and chambers all across the Community. “I think Dad’s research might be connected to it,” Sophia continued with awe. Lilith’s hand hovered over the journal before resting gently on one of the pages. Her breath caught for a moment, a look of recognition flashing across her face. “Your father... these ancient designs always fascinated him,” she murmured, her voice taking on a wistful tone. “This map—this is more than just old sketches, Sophia. It’s a key.” “A key to what?” Sophia asked, though the answer was already forming in her mind. Lilith turned the journal, carefully studying the intricate lines. “He always believed there were secrets buried deep within the Community, clues that could change everything we know about our history. This—” she tapped the map, “—this might be part of what he was searching for.” Sophia’s eyes widened as she recalled her father’s words, spoken so long ago but lingering in her memory like an unfinished melody. “Do you think he knew about this place?” Lilith nodded, her expression one of quiet determination. “He must have. But he never had the chance to follow through. His work was... interrupted.” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Both of them knew why—the accident that had taken her father from them had left too many mysteries unsolved. But now, it felt like the pieces were coming together. Sophia’s voice was soft, tentative. “Do you think this could lead us to…?” “To the refuge?” Lilith finished the thought, her eyes scanning the map again. “It’s possible. Your father always said the refuge wasn’t just a myth. He believed it was real—a hidden sanctuary filled with knowledge from the Surface.” The Surface. The word still carried weight, a reminder of the world their ancestors had left behind. Sophia glanced at the map again, her heart pounding in her chest. “The coordinates—they’re coded, but I think we can decipher them.” Lilith smiled then, the same smile she always gave when a puzzle was about to be solved. “Then let’s get to work.” They sat side by side, pouring over the journal, the lines of the code unraveling under their combined efforts. Hours passed unnoticed as they worked, lost in the thrill of discovery. And when the last piece clicked into place, they looked at each other, eyes wide with excitement and a hint of trepidation. Lilith held Sophia’s hand tightly. “This could be the start of something amazing,” she said. “Your father believed that knowledge could open up endless possibilities.” Sophia smiled, warmth filling her chest. “We’ll finish what he started,” she promised. “He’d be proud of you, sweetheart.” They stood up together, gathering the journal and map. They were ready to follow the path ahead, not sure where it would take them, but certain it would change everything.