-Beyond the illusion-

Echos of the past

echos of the past (her mommy)

Larissa's hand trembled as she yanked the fire alarm, the screeching sound splitting the silence like a blade. Panic surged through her veins. What if they knew? The thought hit her like a wave, drowning her in fear. What if this was all a trap, and she was walking straight into their hands? She could almost feel the cold eyes watching her, the unseen cameras catching her every move. Her chest tightened, her breath shallow. For years, she had obeyed every rule, played the part perfectly, never giving them a reason to suspect. But tonight, everything was different. Tonight, she couldn't stay. She had to get out.

The base was a maze of shadows and whispers, the walls pressing in on her with each step she took. For so long, this place had been all she knew. It had felt like home once, a twisted, suffocating home where fear clung to her like a second skin. But now it was a cage, and the only way out was through the chaos she had just unleashed. Every step forward felt like walking deeper into danger, but the need to escape was stronger than the terror threatening to paralyze her.

Footsteps and voices echoed down the halls as the base erupted into confusion.

"What's going on? Did someone say fire?"

"I thought this place was fireproof!"

"Who pulled the alarm?"

She blended into the chaos, keeping her head down as people rushed past her, frantic. Her heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the alarms. They'll figure it out, she thought, panic gripping her. They'll know it was me. But she couldn't stop now. With a shaky breath, she slipped into the stream of bodies flooding the hallways, avoiding eye contact, her lab coat a thin disguise among the scattering workers.

Her pulse raced with every step. Someone bumped into her shoulder, turning to her with wide eyes. "Larissa, do you know where the fire is?" the man asked, his voice laced with confusion. For a second, her mind went blank. She forced herself to shake her head, muttering, "No idea," before quickly slipping past him, her whole body trembling. Don't stop. Don't look back.

When she reached the final door, she hesitated, just for a moment. Years of her life had been spent here—was she really going to leave it all behind? But she knew staying meant losing herself entirely. With a surge of determination, she pushed the door open and stepped into the night. The cold air hit her like a wall, sharp and biting, but she welcomed it. Every breath she took outside felt like a stolen moment of freedom.

The city lights of Japan flickered in the distance, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to feel something she had long buried: hope. But as she walked further from the base, the weight of a secret she hadn't fully confronted settled in her chest. She pressed a hand to her stomach, a quiet determination solidifying in her mind. This wasn't just about her survival—it was about giving her daughter a chance at a life she'd never have.

_________________
17 years later

The summer heat clung to the air, making the house feel stuffy despite the windows being wide open. The cicadas buzzed outside, a constant reminder that the days were long and endless. Y/N had been pacing in the kitchen for what felt like hours, the tension thick between her and her mom. Two months. That was all she had before the UA entrance exams, and she was determined to make this last year of high school different. She was tired of being stuck here, in this house, while everyone else her age got to experience life. This was her chance—her last chance to go to a real school, and not just any school, but UA.

"Mom, it's my last year. I've been homeschooled for almost my entire life. Don't you think it's time I get to experience the world?" Y/N said, trying to keep her voice steady. Larissa stood at the stove, stirring something absentmindedly, avoiding eye contact. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, but now, with the UA entrance exams looming in just two months, it felt more urgent than ever.

She sighed, her back still turned to Y/N. "The world isn't what you think, Y/N. It's... dangerous. There are things out there you don't understand."

Y/N rolled her eyes, frustration bubbling up. "You always say that. You never let me do anything because of how 'dangerous' the world is. It's like you don't want me to grow up."

"That's not true," Larissa said, finally turning to face her daughter, her expression weary. "You've had plenty of freedom. More than enough. Homeschooling has been good for you. Why are you so eager to leave it now?"

"Because I'm sick of being stuck here!" The words burst out before Y/N could stop them. "I've spent my whole life in this house, with no friends, no experiences—nothing! And now I have one last chance to do something real, something that matters. UA is my dream, and the entrance exams are coming up. I can't just sit here and do nothing."

Larissa's face tightened, her eyes dark with the same fear Y/N had seen so many times before. She stepped away from the stove, crossing her arms as if shielding herself. "UA is dangerous, Y/N. You know that. The students there face real villains, real threats. You're not ready for that kind of responsibility."

"I'm almost an adult! How much longer are you going to treat me like a kid?" Y/N's voice rose, frustration boiling over. "I'm going to be a hero, Mom. That's what UA is for. This is my last year of high school—I need this."

Larissa shook her head, the fear and desperation clear in her eyes. "Y/N, you don't know what you're walking into. You don't know the people who are out there—what they'll do to you if they find you."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. There it was again, the vague warnings, the cryptic hints at something darker. But her mom never explained. Never told her the whole story. "Then tell me, Mom," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Tell me what you're so afraid of."

But Larissa didn't. She just turned away, her hands gripping the counter so tightly her knuckles were white.

And in that silence, Y/N made up her mind. She wasn't going to be trapped by her mom's fear anymore. This time, she was going to take control of her own future.