Genesis. Volume 3.

January 6, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. 11:30 p.m. Everyone had gone to their rooms, but no one was asleep. Light burned in every bedroom, and behind closed doors came muffled voices, the rustle of pages, occasionally a quiet laugh that cut off too quickly. Lisa sat on the bed in her room, gripping a pencil in her right hand, trying to understand what was happening with her power. She could feel it inside her—warm, pulsing, alive. But she couldn't control it the way she wanted. Circles appeared on their own when she wasn't expecting them, and vanished when she tried to hold onto them. She put down the pencil and looked at her right hand. The cast was old, worn, with gray streaks from the London damp. She clenched her fist—her fingers obeyed, though with difficulty. She could feel her bones knitting faster than they should. As if the power was speeding up the process. "What are you?" she whispered, staring at her hand. Her hand didn't answer. Only warmth pulsed beneath her skin, like a second heartbeat. A soft knock came at the door. "Come in," Lisa said. Jenny entered. She was in an old pair of pajamas, her hair loose, clutching the letters she'd found in her mother's house. Her face was pale, but her eyes burned. "I can't sleep," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Neither can I," Lisa replied. "I keep thinking about what we found. The seal, the Devourer, them waking up. My mother." "Did you find something new in the letters?" "Yes." Jenny handed her one of the letters. "Read it." Lisa took the letter and held it up to the light. The handwriting was old, faded, but the words were legible. "Dear Jennifer. I know you don't want to believe this, but the Circle doesn't just hunt Devourers. They create them. They find people who are weak, who are afraid, and turn them into monsters. Then they 'save' the world from those monsters to gain power. You have to stop them. You are the only one who can. I love you. Your mother." Lisa lowered the letter. Her hands were trembling. "They create Devourers?" she repeated. "The Circle?" "Yes," Jenny said. "My mother found out. And they killed her for it." "But why would they do that? Why create monsters if they want to destroy them?" "To control things," Jenny said. "If you create a problem, you can offer a solution. You can become the hero, the savior, the one who keeps the world in balance. But it's a lie. It's a game." "And we're part of that game?" "We're pawns," Jenny said. "But we can stop being pawns. We can become the ones who break the board." She clenched the ring on her finger. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat. "I have to find them," she said. "The ones who killed my mother. And I have to stop them." "We'll stop them," Lisa said. "All together." Jenny looked at her. Tears stood in her eyes, but she didn't cry. "Thank you," she said. "You're welcome," Lisa replied. They sat in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. January 7, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. 7:00 a.m. The morning began with Max bursting into the living room with a shout: "I found it! I found it!" Everyone came running at his voice. Max stood by the table, holding an old book he'd found in the mansion's basement. It was dusty, with a worn binding, and its pages had yellowed with age. "What is it?" Arthur asked, stepping closer. "A book," Max said. "I found it in an old chest in the basement. There were things from the previous owners. I thought it was just junk. But look." He opened the book to the middle. The pages were covered in old, calligraphic handwriting, and between the lines were pasted newspaper clippings and old photographs. "It's a diary," Max said. "Someone wrote down everything they knew about the Devourers. And about the Circle." Arthur took the book and flipped through several pages. On one of them was a photograph—a woman in an old-fashioned dress, with a serious face and dark hair. Beside her stood a man in a suit, and both looked at the camera. "That's Martha Brooks," Jenny said, coming closer. "And that's..." She faltered. "That's Jonathan Brooks. My great-grandfather. The one who built the mansion and opened the door to Crowley." "He wrote down everything he knew," Max said. "He knew what he was doing. He just didn't know how to stop it." "Or didn't want to," Jack added, standing in the doorway. Everyone looked at him. He held the piece of metal he'd found in the basement, and his face was thoughtful. "What do you mean?" Arthur asked. "If he knew Crowley was dangerous, why didn't he stop him earlier? Why did he let him into the house?" "Maybe he had no choice," Jenny said. "Maybe he thought he could control him." "Or he made a deal," Jack said. "Like the Fairfaxes. They also thought they could control what they couldn't." He walked to the table and set the metal next to the book. The metal was old, dark, with symbols engraved on it. "I can feel it," he said. "The metal remembers. It remembers what happened here." "What does it remember?" Lisa asked. "I don't know," Jack said. "But I feel it's important." He ran his finger over the symbols. They were cold, but beneath them warmth pulsed. "This is part of a seal," he said. "Not the one we found on the outskirts. Another one. An old one." "Which one?" Arthur asked. "The one that holds something bigger," Jack said. "Not a Devourer. Something else." He raised his eyes. A strange light burned in them—not Crowley's, not foreign. His own. "I need to find out what it is," he said. "It might be the key to everything." January 7, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. 10:00 a.m. They sat at the table studying Jonathan Brooks's diary. It was thick, filled with small, neat handwriting, and contained entries spanning several decades. Jenny read aloud: "Today I met him. He came to me with an offer. I knew he was dangerous. I could feel it. But he promised me power, wealth, protection for my family. And I agreed. I opened the door, and he entered. Since then I haven't been able to sleep at night. I hear his laughter in the walls. He's waiting. He's always waiting." "He knew what he was doing," Jenny said. "He knew Crowley was dangerous. But he agreed anyway." "Because he thought he could control him," Arthur said. "Like the Fairfaxes. Like everyone who tried to make deals with monsters." "And what happened to him?" Max asked. "He died," Jenny said. "Like everyone who tried to play games with them." She turned the page and continued reading: "I tried to stop him. But I can't. He's too strong. I have to find a way to seal him. But I don't know how. I beg forgiveness from my family. I beg forgiveness from everyone who will suffer because of me." "He repented," Lisa said. "In the end." "But it didn't save him," Emma said. "Or his family." She sat on the windowsill, clutching a mug of tea. Her face was pale, but her voice was firm. "We mustn't repeat his mistakes," she said. "We have to find a way to stop them. All of them." "We will," Arthur said. "We always do." January 7, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. 2:00 p.m. After lunch, Lisa went to her room to practice creating circles. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, focusing on summoning a shield without paper. At first, nothing happened. She could feel the power inside her, but it wouldn't obey. It was like water that flowed but refused to take shape. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the circle. Not as a line on paper, but as something living, pulsing. She imagined it closing, the space around it tightening, the air growing dense. When she opened her eyes, a glowing circle hung before her. It was brighter than yesterday, steadier. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat. "I did it," she whispered. She got to her feet and reached out toward the circle. It was warm, almost alive. She could feel its energy, its strength. "You're doing great," said a voice behind her. Lisa turned. Jack stood in the doorway, watching her with a warm smile—the kind he hadn't worn in three years. "I can feel it," he said. "Your power. It's getting stronger." "How can you feel it?" she asked. "I don't know," he said. "But I can. The way I feel metal. The way I feel seals. It's part of me now." He walked over and held out his hand. In his palm lay the piece of metal he'd found in the basement. "I want to show you something," he said. "Close your eyes." Lisa closed them. "Imagine you're holding the metal in your hands," he said. "Feel its cold, its weight. Now imagine it's warm. That it's pulsing. That it's alive." Lisa imagined it. She felt the cold of the metal, then warmth. She felt it pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "Now open your eyes," Jack said. Lisa opened her eyes. The metal in his palm glowed with a dull red light. "What is it?" she asked. "It's part of a seal," Jack said. "An old seal. And it knows you." "How?" "I don't know. But it knows you. It can feel your power." Lisa looked at the metal, at its pulsing light. She felt a connection to it—as if they were part of the same whole. "What should I do?" she asked. "Learn to understand it," Jack said. "The way I understand metal. The way you understand paper. It's your tool. Your weapon." He placed the metal in her hand. It was warm, almost hot. Lisa clenched it and felt her power join with its power. "Thank you," she said. "You're welcome," Jack replied. "You're part of this. Like me. We're all part of this." They stood in the room, looking at the metal pulsing in her hand, and felt something shift. The world around them was growing bigger, more complex, more dangerous. But they were together. And that was all that mattered. January 7, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. Evening. That evening, everyone gathered in the living room to discuss the next step. "We need to find Eleanor," Arthur said. "She's the only one who knows how to build new seals." "And we need to find the Circle," Jack added. "They're weakening the seals. If we don't stop them, everything we've done will be for nothing." "And how do we find them?" Emma asked. "Through Sasha," Arthur said. "She knows them better than anyone." "She won't want to help," Max said. "She betrayed them. If they find her, they'll kill her." "That's why we need to protect her," Arthur said. "And ask her to help." He looked at Sasha, who sat in the corner, silent. She looked tired, but in her eyes burned the same fire that was in all of them. "I'll help," she said. "I'll do whatever I can." "Thank you," Arthur said. "You're welcome," Sasha replied. "I'm part of this team. I have to help." She stood and walked to the table where a map with red dots lay. "I know where their headquarters is," she said. "In London. In an old building they use as a hideout." "How do you know?" Max asked. "I was there," Sasha said. "I worked for them. I know their system." "Then we'll go there," Arthur said. "And stop them." "It's not that simple," Sasha said. "Their headquarters is protected. They use magic to hide it. Without a key, you can't get in." "What key?" Lisa asked. "I don't know," Sasha said. "But I know it exists. And I know it's connected to you. To your history." She looked at Jenny, at her ring, at the letters lying on the table. "The key is you," she said. "Your blood. Your memory. Your history." Jenny clenched the ring in her fist. "Then we'll find it," she said. "We'll find everything we need." She looked at her friends—at their faces, their eyes, their resolve. "We'll make it," she said. "All together." January 7, 1989. Brookfield. The Genesis Mansion. Night. That night, Lisa couldn't sleep. She sat on the windowsill in her room, clutching the piece of metal Jack had given her. It was warm, pulsing in time with her heart, and she could feel her power connecting with it. She didn't know what it meant. But she knew it was important. Outside, the wind howled. Somewhere on the hill, in the old mansion, a gray light burned—or perhaps she only imagined it. She stared at it and thought about what they had to do. About what they had to find. About what they had to defeat. "We'll make it," she whispered. "I know it." She closed her eyes. In the darkness beneath her lids, she saw a circle—not on paper, not in the air, but inside herself. It was bright, alive, pulsing. It was her protection. Her power. Her future. She opened her eyes. The room was dark, only the moon shining through the window, casting pale shadows on the floor. Lisa clenched the metal in her hand and felt it answer with warmth. "I'm ready," she said. "I'm ready for anything." She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. For the first time in a long while, she felt she could sleep peacefully. That she wasn't alone. That she had the power to protect those she loved. She fell asleep toward morning, and she dreamed of circles. Not defensive ones—living ones. They swirled around her like fireflies, and each one was part of her power. Her will. Her future. She knew this was only the beginning. But she was ready. Ready for whatever lay ahead.