"A secret shared by four is never truly silent — it's just waiting to echo."
Rain hammered the windows of Ardhana University's old library, casting shadows that danced across the marble floor. The storm outside mirrored the unrest inside — a tension so thick, it coiled around every conversation.
Aska stared at his phone. Ara hadn't responded to his last five messages.
He had tried calling — no tone, no voicemail.
Just dead air.
Ara always replies.
He shoved his phone in his pocket and headed out into the rain, his coat forgotten. His feet moved fast, not toward his dorm, but to the girls' residence building.
The receptionist gave him a suspicious glance, but Aska didn't care.
"I need to check on Ara Nadhira. She's in room 307. Please."
"She hasn't checked out," the receptionist muttered, scanning the log. "But the power in that wing went out an hour ago. Generator backup failed."
"Of course it did," Aska whispered.
He ran.
---
Aluna stood in front of a cracked bathroom mirror, staring at herself.
Not in the usual way — not vanity.
But searching.
Searching for guilt in her own reflection.
She should've asked more questions. She should've known better. And yet, she had done the easiest thing: stayed silent. Avoided the ugly truth.
Her phone buzzed.
It was from an unknown number again.
"How well do you really know your friends?"
Below the message, an attachment: a video file.
She pressed play.
At first, it was black.
Then — footage of a hallway. Blurry, like it was from a cheap security camera. It panned left.
Then froze.
She saw him.
Said.
In the IT room.
Again.
This wasn't the same video from before — this was a different angle.
Then… footsteps behind him. Another figure.
Not clear.
But familiar.
Too familiar.
Her hand trembled.
It looked like… her.
No. No. That couldn't be right.
She never went near the IT lab.
Right?
Then came the second message:
"Some memories are made to be broken."
Aluna's knees buckled.
Had she been there?
Was this some trick?
Or had someone manipulated her memory — her trust — her reality?
---
Meanwhile, Aska burst into Ara's darkened room.
"Ara!"
No answer.
He pulled out his phone and used the flashlight. Her bed was empty. The curtains swayed from the open window. The power was out — the whole hallway buzzing with tension.
Then he saw it: her laptop on the desk, still open, the screen flickering. A browser window showed the video footage of the IT lab — but now it had two bookmarks highlighted:
Student Logins Archive
Camera Glitch Directory
His eyes narrowed.
"She found something…"
Then his phone lit up.
New message from: UNKNOWN
"Curious, aren't you? One more step and you'll lose more than trust."
Aska's stomach dropped.
Was someone watching him?
Playing them all?
He grabbed Ara's laptop and bolted.
Whatever game this was, it was escalating — fast.
And if he didn't move quicker, it would destroy all of them.
---
Said sat by the back stairwell, drenched from the rain, hoodie clinging to his skin.
He was alone, but not at peace.
He scrolled through the logs again, his fingers numb.
And there — a file directory he didn't create. Hidden in the code.
Encrypted, but the title was readable.
"CONFESSION.mp4"
He tapped.
The screen flickered.
Then played.
The voice was filtered, but clear.
"To whoever finds this... I'm sorry. I never meant for it to go this far. But I was tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of watching everyone else win while I drowned. So I took it. I copied the exams. I changed the grades. And yes… I planted the file. But it wasn't just me. You'll never believe who helped."
The video cut off.
No name.
No face.
Just enough to burn a hole in his trust.
Said closed his laptop slowly, jaw clenched.
Someone's framing us all.
"If you want to tear people apart, don't give them the truth — give them pieces of it."
---