The room was dim.
Not just dark—
Heavy.
Silent.
Like something unseen was breathing within it.
Elsa stood in the center.
Still.
Her face calm…
Too calm.
No emotion.
No resistance.
Her eyes—
Empty.
As if her soul had been quietly erased.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow.
Sharp.
The mysterious woman approached, her heels clicking softly against the floor.
She stopped in front of Elsa.
Close enough to feel her breath.
"Act normal," she said coldly.
"Just like you always do."
A pause.
Elsa blinked.
Once.
Mechanical.
"Yes, ma'am."
Her voice was hollow.
Lifeless.
A faint smile formed on the woman's lips.
"There is no more Elsa," she whispered.
"Only the puppet remains."
From the shadows—
Dr. Louis watched.
Silent.
Observing.
Everything was going exactly as planned.
The woman turned toward him.
"Louis…"
Her voice softened—but only slightly.
"Why are we training Angel?"
Louis didn't hesitate.
"Because her blood carries something rare."
The woman's eyes lit up.
"That means…?"
His voice dropped.
"Yes."
A pause.
Heavy.
"She is the one we've been searching for…"
His gaze sharpened.
"For two years."
A slow smile spread across her face.
"That's wonderful."
Then—
Her expression darkened.
"The queen is waiting for Angel."
Her voice grew colder.
"Her parents…"
A brief silence.
"They are already under the queen's control."
The air shifted.
Even the silence felt dangerous.
"I believe Angel will never find out who they truly are."
Louis stepped forward slightly.
"Do you even know who her parents are?"
The woman let out a soft laugh.
"Of course not."
She looked away, thoughtful.
"But the queen…"
A flicker of fear crossed her eyes.
"She always used to say…"
Her voice lowered to a whisper.
"That child was never meant to live a normal life."
Silence.
Then—
"She was born for something far greater."
Louis finished quietly,
"And far more dangerous."
The woman—Meranda—smiled.
"Exactly."
Neither of them noticed—
In the far corner of the room—
A shadow moved.
Silent.
Watching.
Listening.
And understanding everything.
Far Away…
Angel slept peacefully.
Unaware…
Of the truth closing in around her.
Morning
6:00 AM.
Soft sunlight slipped into the room.
Angel's eyes opened slowly.
A gentle smile formed on her lips.
Warm.
Alive.
She stretched lightly.
For a moment—
Everything felt normal.
She got ready for training.
Light steps.
Carefree energy.
But something felt…
Different.
She stood in front of the mirror.
Her short hair.
Her outfit.
Her reflection.
She leaned closer.
"It feels like… something big is waiting for me," she whispered.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
A strange feeling filled her chest.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Something deeper.
Like her instincts were trying to warn her.
Or prepare her.
She picked up her comb—
Ran it through her hair—
Knock.
Knock.
She froze.
Her hand stopped mid-air.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Her eyes slowly turned toward the door.
"What if… it's a ghost?"
Her voice dropped.
A memory flashed—
That zombie movie.
Dark hallway.
Pale face.
She swallowed.
"No… no…"
She shook her head quickly.
"Come on, Angel… you're not a kid."
"You're brave."
Silence.
Then—
Knock.
Knock.
Louder.
Closer.
Her courage vanished instantly.
She stepped back.
Slowly.
"Nope."
"I'm not opening that."
Her voice trembled.
Then—
The doorknob moved.
Slightly.
Her eyes widened.
Her breath stopped.
Her mind went blank—
"NOOOO!!!" she screamed.
At that exact moment—
The door—
CREAKED OPEN.
Standing at the doorway—
Wasn't a ghost.
But something far more terrifying.
A familiar figure.
Standing still.
Watching her.
With empty eyes.
Behind them—
A shadow moved again.
And this time—
It whispered:
"She's waking up…"