Mrs. Magenta spoke softly. "Roselle, when I was your age, I did see things and have experiences which nobody else took for granted. I knew from deep within myself that I was not mad and I eventually grew up to make sense of my gift of foresight."

  Her eyes became softer, but there was fierce solemnity there. "Roselle, I think your talent is beginning to emerge."

  Roselle swallowed hard. “My ability…”

  Mrs. Magenta nodded slowly. "You're going to see a lot—confusion, fear, moments when reality itself seems to slide away from your fingers. I went through the same thing."

  Roselle brought one hand up over her mouth. “You’re saying I have that Visionary power too? But… I don’t see visions in the future like you.”

  Mrs. Magenta's face relaxed even more. She gently pulled on Roselle's shoulder and then swept her into a warm hug. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have told you about my powers earlier. You're still so young, and there is so much you have yet to learn. But something is approaching. Something big. You will have to be strong, Roselle. You will."

  Roselle tensed.

  Mrs. Magenta let go of her slowly and sighed. “As for Sarah... well….”

  Roselle’s heart pounded. “What? What do you know? Tell me, Mom! Sarah’s my best friend!”

  Mrs. Magenta glanced to the side and murmured under her breath, “That’s exactly why…”

  Roselle’s stomach dropped. “What? Mom, what are you saying? Tell me!”

  Mrs. Magenta’s face darkened with a deep conflict flickering in her eyes.

  Roselle’s chest tightened. “Mom…Please. I need to know.”

  Mrs. Magenta breathed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them once more, there was sorrow in her eyes. "Roselle, I want to tell you. But if I do…it may hurt you…."

  Roselle thruster her hands down. "I don't care! Tell me! Tell me now!"

  Mrs. Magenta's lowered her eyes slightly. "Okay…Just promise me you won’t do anything crazy once I say it."

  Roselle's nodded. “I promise."

  Mrs. Magenta looked straight into her daughter's eyes. "Roselle… Sarah is in danger."

  Roselle's breathing caught in her throat. "Then I have to go save her! Where is she now?!"

  Mrs. Magenta grasped Roselle's shoulders firmly. "There's nothing more you can do tonight. “

  Roselle’s body shook. “But—” Her voice broke. “I—I can’t just do nothing!”

  Mrs. Magenta’s grip tightened. “She’s going to live, Roselle, but….just go and get some rest.”

  Roselle clenched her jaw. She wiped her eyes quickly and fought back the tears and rising panic. “Then… then will I at least see her tomorrow?”

  Mrs. Magenta hesitated. A hesitation that sent ice through Roselle’s veins. But finally, she nodded. “Yes. At school tomorrow. Now go to bed, hun.”

  Roselle headed upstairs to her room, but deep down, something still didn’t feel right.

  The next day, Roselle approached her first period class at school and searched the room. No Sarah.

  She tapped her fingers restlessly on the desktop.

  Second period. No Sarah.

  At lunchtime, Roselle walked to the cafeteria and met Michigo and Tori sitting at a table and took a seat opposite them with a tray of food. When she reached for her sandwich, a piece of paper hit her tray with a soft plop.

  Her eyes flicked up. Across the cafeteria, Hashta sat with her own lunch and casually took a bite of her food as if nothing happened.

  Roselle sighed and unfolded the paper.

  “No luck on Sarah?”

  She exhaled sharply and scribbled back. “Nothing. You’re annoying.”

  Roselle crumpled the paper up and tossed it back.

  Hashta caught it effortlessly and smirked.

  Final class. No Sarah.

  Roselle sat at her desk and barely heard the teacher’s words. A slow realization sank into her chest like a cold weight: Her mother lied to her.

  After school, Roselle stepped outside the building with a deep frown etched onto her face. No Sarah. No clues. No idea what to do next.

  Her mother had lied.

  She stared at the pavement. ‘What do I do now…?’

  Then—her phone rang.

  Roselle snatched it from her pocket and answered immediately. “Sarah?!”

  “Wrong. It’s me.”

  Roselle blinked. “Harty?”

  His voice came through, low and urgent. “You need to come to the chess club. Now.”

  Roselle furrowed her brows. “Harty, isn’t chess club starting soon?”

  “This is even more important than that,” he said, dead serious. “Just get here. NOW.”

  Roselle hung up and bolted towards the clubroom.

  By the time Roselle reached the chess club room, her lungs were burning. One brief run was all it took to remind her that her body was weak.

  She staggered to the door before pushing it open.

  The moment Roselle stepped inside, her eyes widened. There was no sign of chess club. No students settling in for a match. No, she saw a different sight:

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Maps were pinned to a chalkboard with red circles and lines connecting different locations. Notes covered the desks, some scribbled in haste, and others neatly organized into stacks. Photographs and pieces of evidence were scattered around.

  At the center of it all stood Harty with a grim look on his face.

  Roselle swallowed. “Harty, what’s happening?”

  Harty exhaled sharply. “I called you here because we have a problem.”

  Roselle’s stomach twisted. “Sarah?”

  Harty reached for one of the papers on the desk and gripped it tightly before looking Roselle dead in the eye. “It’s worse than we thought.”

  He then slammed the paper down on his desk with gritted teeth. "We’ve lost Sarah. She’s no longer a part of our investigative team."

  Roselle's heart pounded. "How—how could you say that?!"

  Harty’s jaw tightened. "Because she’s missing, Roselle."

  The words hit like a slap.

  ‘No… No, no, no…’

  Her mother promised Sarah would be at school today!

  The tears were forming in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She bit her lip hard.

  Harty sighed. After seeing Roselle’s reaction, his face softened. "I know that was hard to hear but, there’s more."

  Roselle inhaled sharply. "More?"

  Harty nodded. "Tell me the truth. Yesterday, did you go to the Silver Star Arcade?"

  Roselle blinked. "Yeah… why?"

  Harty’s gaze darkened. "Because you and Sarah skipped out on meeting me. And that arcade… that’s the last place I saw her."

  Roselle's eyes widened. "You saw Sarah? “

  Harty continued with his face becoming fearful, "She was with someone who looked exactly like you, Roselle. The person was taller, but everything else was similar, even their hairstyle. They weren't dressed casually like you usually do. They were with a boy who was dressed rather fancy for an arcade."

  Roselle was trying to process this new information. A look-alike and a boy at the arcade? She didn’t see them at all!

  Harty’s face grew more serious. "I caught a sliver of their conversation, Roselle. They were pressuring Sarah into doing something dangerous. I tried to get closer to find out more. Unfortunately, my current partners had some kind of episode, and the three of us ended up in a secret part of the arcade. I couldn't get back to Sarah."

  Roselle furrowed her brows. “Wait… when exactly did you go there?”

  Harty exhaled. “It was pretty late. Maybe an hour or two after the chess club ended. Why?”

  Roselle’s stomach twisted. “Because when I left the arcade, I never found Sarah.”

  Harty nodded grimly. “By the way, Sarah was in a dress when I saw her. Does that add up with anything you know?”

  Roselle shook her head. “No. I had no clue she was even still around. I searched everywhere—called her phone, checked the bathrooms, asked around. There was no sign of her. She was in her school uniform when I last saw her.”

  Harty’s eyes sharpened. “Then that means—”

  “She changed clothes,” Roselle finished while gripping the edge of the desk. “Which means… she either left the arcade or came back later, or someone made her change.”

  Harty’s fingers curled into a fist. “We’re missing a huge chunk of time. Something happened between when you left and when I arrived.”

  Roselle’s mind raced. ‘A doppelg?nger of me. A boy in fancy clothes. Sarah out of uniform, being pressured into something dangerous.’

  It wasn’t making sense.

  And worst of all—Sarah was still gone.

  Harty hesitated for a moment before speaking once more. "Roselle, there's one more thing you need to know. There is… another person who looks like you, although they are much taller. Fortunately though, they're on our side. They joined our investigative team yesterday."

  With that, Harty placed a picture in front of Roselle. While looking at the image, her eyes widened. It was a picture of an extremely familiar girl.

  Staring at the picture, Roselle's trembled. "That's... that's .....That...can't be.... How... how is this possible?"

  That long blue hair. That face. That deadpan stare.

  She knew this person.

  Her lips parted and was ready to say the name; however, before she could even breathe it out, the world around herflickered like a glitching screen.

  "Roselle? Hey—Roselle!"

  Harty sounded muffled. She saw him reach for her with concern. But the moment his fingers brushed against her shoulder—

  Everything went black.

  Roselle drifted weightlessly in a space that wasn’t quite light nor entirely dark. Then, just ahead, it appeared.

  A floating emoji. Thick, bold lines, half-lidded eyes filled with boredom, and a mouth locked in permanent disinterest.

  “Congratulations, Project Mage.” It spoke. “You survived this memory fragment.”

  Roselle barely had time to process those words before the emoji continued.

  “Project Mage data collection is now 20%.”

  Roselle’s brows twitched in irritation. “Was that…Risebelle just now?”

  The floating emoji didn’t even blink.

  “Dunno.” It answered lazily. “I dunno jack about that.”

  Roselle’s eye twitched. “What?”

  The emoji rocked back and forth. “What you see in these memory fragments? That’s all you. Your memories, your past, your weird existential crisis. I just pry in and peek at what’s going on.”

  Roselle clenched her fists. “So you’re useless?”

  “Hey, now.” The emoji spun slightly. “I wouldn’t say useless. I keep track of your data collection, remind you of things, and sometimes I’m funny.”

  Roselle narrowed her eyes. “You’re never funny.”

  The emoji gasped. “Wow. That hurt.”

  Roselle’s eyes narrowed further. “What do you know?”

  The emoji stopped floating and stared directly at her.

  “I know,” it said while suddenly speaking monotone, “that you’re not ready for the next one.”

  The emoji straightened—if a floating face could do that.

  “Anyway, good news! Your body has been fully recovered to full capacity.” It gave a slow, sarcastic blink. “So, I’m sending you back to the present now.”

  Roselle exhaled in relief. “Finally.”

  The void trembled. Energy crackled in the empty space. And then—

  Nothing.

  Roselle waited. A second passed. Then another. Then another.

  She tapped her foot against the nonexistent floor.

  Still nothing.

  A full minute passed.

  Roselle crossed her arms. “Well?”

  The emoji tilted its head. “Huh.”

  Roselle’s eye twitched. “Huh? What do you mean huh?”

  The emoji spun slightly. “Looks like we might’ve… uh… accidentally prepared the recovery process for twenty-four hours instead of forty-eight minutes.”

  Roselle’s face went blank. “…What.”

  The emoji bobbed up and down. “Sooo… yeah. Your body’s shut down longer than expected.”

  Roselle inhaled sharply through her nose.

  “Whoops.”

  Roselle lunged at the emoji with an enraged scream, but her hands swiped through empty space.

  Roselle groaned and plopped down onto the non-existent ground. She rubbed her temples. “Alright. Since I’m stuck here for a while… tell me something useful. What do you actually know about Project Mage?”

  The emoji stopped bobbing. “Oh, finally interested in the system itself huh? Alright, listen up.”

  A holographic screen materialized in the void that glowed with faint purple text.

  “Project Mage was designed to take on four elemental forces,” the system began. “But your basic element—the one you can use even in your normal form—is Lightning.”

  Roselle frowned. “Yeah, I already figured that out.”

  “Obviously,” the emoji drawled. “But here’s the kicker—when you transform into Project Mage, you unlock Elemental Fusion. That means you can combine elements in ways regular mages can’t.”

  Roselle’s frown deepened. “I know that too.”

  The emoji’s eyes half-lidded. “Do you know that you can’t properly use Project Mage transformation yet?”

  Roselle blinked. “What?”

  The screen flickered and showed a simplified silhouette of her transformed form.

  “In order to fully stabilize Project Mage transformation and avoid magic rupture, you need to reach 50% Project Mage Data Collection,” the system explained. “Otherwise, your body won’t be able to handle the fusion of elements, and—well, let’s just say the results wouldn’t be pretty.”

  Roselle shuddered. “Magic rupture…”

  The emoji nodded sagely. “Uh-huh. Not fun. You don’t wanna explode into mana particles, trust me.”

  Roselle exhaled slowly. “So… I need to get to 50% before I can safely use my full power.”

  “Ding ding ding!” the emoji chimed. “Give the kid a prize.”

  Roselle sat up straighter. “Wait—one more question.”

  The emoji wobbled in the air. “Eh, fine. Hit me.”

  Roselle’s eyes narrowed. “Back when I was fighting Abner… when I thought Runebelle died, I transformed. Why did you let me use Project Mage then? If magic rupture is such a big deal, why didn’t you stop it?”

  The emoji froze. For the first time, it looked almost… hesitant.

  “Well…” it started shifting awkwardly. “That… wasn’t our doing.”

  Roselle stiffened. “What?”

  The emoji bounced away slightly. “Yeah, uh, I didn’t authorize that transformation. It just kinda… happened.”

  Roselle’s stomach twisted. “Then who—”

  But before she could press further, a soft glow began to filter through the void.

  The emoji perked up. “Oh, would you look at that! It’s time for you to wake up!”

  “Wait, hey!” Roselle reached out, but the void dissolved and she was pulled back to the present.

  After taking a deep breath, Roselle opened her eyes.

  Project Mage