Page 102 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

FIFTY-EIGHT

EMMA

His words had torn my soul apart...

I couldn't even deny he was justified in not trusting me; after all, I had just "married" someone else without even understanding how.

I didn't feel any different though; had it really happened? I had to find Julian and get answers immediately. However, attempting to contact him proved futile; he didn't answer my calls and I sighed deeply in disappointment as I embarked on the long walk back to Universitas.

By the time I reached my dorm, I nearly buckled under the exhaustion weighing me down. I leaned my head against the door, hoping the cold steel would jolt me awake from the nightmare I was living. It didn't.

Opening the door, I felt grateful for the familiar sight of my bed, even though it was but late in the afternoon. Despite a deep yearning to cry, my tears stubbornly refused to spill, my body too worn out and I couldn’t wait to cuddle with my covers and sob in my pillow.

However, as I took a step into my room, I heard a distant thrum echoing from downstairs.

Leaning back, I strained to hear what was going on but couldn’t discern anything unusual.

Slowly, I retreated a few steps down the hall, then down the stairs, edging closer to the level below, but there was still nothing out of the ordinary.

Had I imagined it? The past few days had been undeniably eventful, perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me.

I shrugged, prepared to turn around when I heard it again—a low, menacing rumble, akin to a relentless beast, signaling its hunger.

Some primal instinct kicked in, and I found myself teetering on the edge of a fight-or-flight response.

In a split-second decision, I raced back upstairs, grabbed all the knives from my room, and stashed them strategically in my clothes.

As if on cue, a child's scream pierced the air at full volume.

Without thinking, I bolted down the stairs as quickly as my legs could carry me, taking a few minutes to reach the first level of the Scola. I hurried to the Epicenter, trying to ascertain where the noise had come from.

As I ran through the hallway of the Third Hour, I noticed most teachers had already emerged from their classrooms, their expressions now shifting from curiosity to concern.

The dimming sunlight cast shadows on their faces, accentuating the worry etched across their features.

Whispers of speculation spread among the faculty as they exchanged uneasy glances, trying to make sense of the deafening noise.

"What is that?" I gasped, addressing the first teacher I encountered, desperately trying to catch my breath.

"Not sure," she replied, her uncertainty mirroring my own.

The noise swelled, growing louder, and anxiety rippled through the gathering crowd. A sense of panic became palpable, and my heart raced wildly while my hands trembled involuntarily.

Boom. Boom.

The ominous rumble morphed into a thunderous stomp, each earth-shaking boom closing in faster than I could comprehend.

Boom. Boom.

The sound was deafening, nearly painful.

"What the hell is that?" I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the unyielding barrage.

Boom. Boom.

It continued relentlessly for what felt like an eternity.

I motioned the teachers to close off their classrooms, in an attempt to keep the children safe, as we retreated all to the Epicenter. Surrounded by almost twenty teachers, I looked around me, searching for a familiar face but I couldn’t find anyone.

Then, abruptly, silence descended, wrapping us in its unsettling stillness.

No one uttered a word, all anticipating the worst. Time ticked away excruciatingly slowly, each second stretching into an ominous void.

A hair-rising calm settled over the corridor, amplifying the tension in the air. Had "it," whatever it was, departed?

Before I could even finish that thought, the world exploded into chaos.

Tens—no, hundreds—of magi surged through the hallways, swarming the first level like a dark, unstoppable tide.

They were cloaked in chilling black uniforms, their garments decked with sinister symbols that seemed to throb with a malevolent energy.

Masks concealed their faces, rendering them faceless harbingers of terror. Radicals.

They came from every direction—left, right, above—an overwhelming force of destruction that crushed everything in its path.

My heart pounded furiously as the brutal reality sank in: they had invaded the very heart of the Scola, the sanctuary where the youngest and most vulnerable of us were supposed to be safe.

The thought of countless innocent children in imminent danger ignited a wildfire of dread and fury within me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

"They breached our Layers!" someone shouted from afar, desperation echoing unmistakably in their voice. Well, no shit, Poirot.

With the Radicals swarming us, I started desperately searching for anything we could use as a barrier between us and them.

Shifting my gaze to the hallways, I noticed a few children slipping out of classrooms. No, no, no!

In a gut-wrenching moment, I witnessed a Radical lunge at a defenseless kid, left stranded and exposed in the hallway.

Acting on raw instinct, I lunged forward, propelled by a surge of desperate adrenaline.

Without a moment’s pause, I jumped onto the Radical’s back and twisted violently, snapping his neck with a ruthless efficiency that James had drilled into me.

I aimed for the cleanest, least bloody kill, determined to spare the child from any more horror.

My hands still trembling, I snatched the little boy's arm, and hustled him into the closest classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

My hand firmly clutched over his chest, I slowly opened the door and peeked through the crack.

Lifting my gaze, a shockwave of panic rippled through me when I realized almost every kid had bolted from the presumed safety of the classrooms, and was now running amok throughout the hallways.

Are. You. Kidding. Me?

I gritted my teeth. The entire situation had turned into an absolute nightmare within seconds, my heart pounding like crazy when I grasped the urgency of keeping these Radicals away from the kids.

“What’s your name?” I whispered to the little guy next to me.

“Jack,” he replied, his voice trembling with fear.

I crouched down to his eye-level. “Listen to me, Jack, you see that closet behind you? You are going in there and you are going to stay in there until I come back for you. My name is Emma. Unless I tell you it’s Emma, you do not come out, do you understand me?”

He nodded, tears in his eyes.

“Go,” I ordered, nodding toward the closet. He ran inside without hesitation, closing the door firmly behind him. I took three quick, measured breaths to steady myself, then turned and opened the door, stepping back into the hallway.

The sounds of clashing weapons and frantic shouts from the Epicenter left no doubt—a battle had erupted.

I didn’t hesitate, sprinting toward the chaos.

Radicals began closing in, emerging from every direction, their presence tightening around me.

My translation surged, heightening my senses and setting my body on high alert.

I pushed forward to the front lines, the teachers of the Scola flanking me. Though grateful for their assistance, my prior training with James marked me as basically the only one equipped for battle. How the hell was I supposed to shield every teacher and kid by myself against this horde?

Time to step the fuck up.

"Get those kids out of here!" I barked, relief surging through me as half the teachers immediately began portaling out, each clutching a child. Damn it, these kids were too young to navigate portals alone. If every child needed an adult to take them, we’d never get everyone out in time. Too many Radicals, too many children, and too few of us. We couldn’t possibly evacuate them all before the Radicals closed in.

I had to buy us time somehow.

My mind scrambled for a solution—any solution.

I ran through every barrier I could think of: a pile of desks, a wall of fire, maybe even an ice rink to trip them up.

Each idea fell apart the second it surfaced; either they wouldn’t hold or would probably just put the kids in even more danger.

I needed something that would actually work—something unbreakable, indestructible, capable of standing up to a horde of Radicals.

You know, just a small favor from the universe.

Then the idea hit me, building piece by piece in my mind: a massive, fire-resistant wall. Something that could physically slow them down. Before I even fully processed it, I translated a colossal wall right in the middle of the Epicenter, cutting off the Radicals with a solid barrier.

I blinked at my own construction. Wow. Did I just…?

A knife whizzed past me, burying itself in a teacher’s shoulder. She let out a sharp cry of pain, staggering back as blood began to stain her clothes.

Right. No time to pat myself on the back.

The Radicals paused, briefly thrown by the sudden wall, but I still had to get all the children onto my side.

There was no structure, no order—just pure chaos.

The Radicals attacked like South American guerrillas, launching ambushes and surprise assaults with no rhyme or reason.

Translation morphing into weapons, bursts of fire, and flashes of ice.

The battlefield was an uncontrollable mess of clashing powers, with everyone fighting everyone.

What the hell was happening? Why were they here? What could they possibly want?

I forced my gaze back to the kids, their small faces pale with fear. Godsfuckingdammit. My energy surged violently at their helplessness, pushing me into action.