

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.
