JOVEL ALVAREZ TAJANLANGIT

I never thought the name Jovel Alvarez Tajanlangit would mean anything beyond a whispered joke in the hallways—a mouthful, strange, unforgettable. But names carry weight, and mine is heavy with secrets. My father vanished when I was seven, leaving behind only a journal filled with coded entries and a warning: *Trust no one with the truth.* Now, at seventeen, I’ve cracked the first code. It points to a hidden room beneath our old house, sealed shut, covered in symbols I don’t understand. The night I open it, everything changes. A woman appears—burned, bleeding, calling me by a different name. She says I died three years ago. That I’m not Jovel anymore. That I’m something else. Something they’ve been hunting. Every choice since has been a lie or a trap. Do I run and vanish into the shadows like my father? Do I confront the people who erased my memories and demand the truth, even if it kills me? Or do I embrace whatever I became after death and become the thing they fear? The door is open. The past is alive. And the real Jovel might not want to be found.

JOVEL ALVAREZ TAJANLANGIT

I never thought the name Jovel Alvarez Tajanlangit would mean anything beyond a whispered joke in the hallways—a mouthful, strange, unforgettable. But names carry weight, and mine is heavy with secrets. My father vanished when I was seven, leaving behind only a journal filled with coded entries and a warning: *Trust no one with the truth.* Now, at seventeen, I’ve cracked the first code. It points to a hidden room beneath our old house, sealed shut, covered in symbols I don’t understand. The night I open it, everything changes. A woman appears—burned, bleeding, calling me by a different name. She says I died three years ago. That I’m not Jovel anymore. That I’m something else. Something they’ve been hunting. Every choice since has been a lie or a trap. Do I run and vanish into the shadows like my father? Do I confront the people who erased my memories and demand the truth, even if it kills me? Or do I embrace whatever I became after death and become the thing they fear? The door is open. The past is alive. And the real Jovel might not want to be found.

I pried the floorboard loose at midnight.

The symbol beneath glowed faintly—three interlocking spirals, drawn in something dark and flaking. I pressed my palm against it. The air cracked. The ground split.

A woman climbed out, burned from the inside, her veins lit like fire under skin. She grabbed my wrist. Her voice was ash. “Serafin. You’re late.”

I yanked back. “My name is Jovel.”

She laughed, short and broken. “No. You died three years ago. I pulled you back. Don’t you remember the storm? The lightning? The promise?”

I didn’t answer. I remembered fire. A child screaming. A name not mine.

She stepped closer. “They erased you. Your father knew. That’s why he left the journal. That’s why he vanished. You’re not just alive, Serafin. You’re *Fractured*. Two souls. One body. And they’re coming to take you apart.”

A drone buzzed outside—low, quiet, circling. Not normal patrol pattern.

She snapped her fingers. The symbols on the wall dimmed. “Silencers. Already tracking the breach.” She shoved a black shard into my hand. It pulsed. “This is your true name. Say it, and they’ll hear. Stay silent, and you’ll never be free.”

I stared at it. My reflection in the obsidian shifted—older eyes, sharper face, a mouth that didn’t smile.

“Who am I?” I asked.

“You’re the one who survived death,” she said. “Now decide—run, hide, or fight back. But choose fast. The door’s open. They’re already inside the house.”

Footsteps creaked above. Slow. Deliberate.

I tightened my grip on the shard.

It burned like memory. Like truth.

“I’m not running,” I said.

The woman smiled.

Then the lights went out.