This is part of an original serialized fiction project written and edited by the author. All story elements and characters are fictional.

Dawn brought a deceptive calm to the Esmeralda Building.
Sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, casting long beams across the quiet halls—halls that, just hours before, had pulsed with tension and impossible choices.

In Teodora’s small apartment, the air smelled faintly of old books and fresh tea. Leo and Lucía sat at the kitchen table, their eyes fixed on the worn leather-bound diary lying open between them. It was their grandfather’s journal—one Teodora’s father had kept hidden for decades.

“You really think this has more answers?” Leo asked, gently turning another page, the paper dry and delicate beneath his fingers.

Teodora, preparing tea in the kitchenette, gave a tired but certain nod.

“My father always said the building’s most important secrets were in here. We just didn’t always know how to read them.”

Lucía, still fighting off the weight of a sleepless night, leaned in and pointed to a page covered in cramped handwriting and a hand-drawn symbol: a circle surrounded by small triangles.

“This symbol... it shows up a lot. What does it mean?”

Teodora brought over the tea and set it down, then sat beside them, her gaze falling on the emblem.

“That’s the mark of the Emerald Keepers—the original group that built the Esmeralda Building. They were sworn to protect the artifact... and its secrets.”

Leo looked up sharply. “Wait, a group? You never mentioned anything about that.”

Teodora exhaled slowly. “Because most of them vanished decades ago. Some walked away when they started questioning the mission. Others... we never found out what happened to them.”

Lucía’s brow furrowed. “You think Méndez could be connected to them somehow?”

Teodora’s answer came slowly. “It’s possible. If his foundation has access to the Keepers’ records, they may know far more than we realize.”

Leo flipped a few more pages. One passage caught his eye—written in a hurried scrawl, as if the writer had been racing against time.

The artifact not only reveals secrets—it stores them. Every use leaves a trace, an echo. If someone finds a way to access those echoes... they’ll see everything we tried to bury.

Lucía read it aloud, her voice tinged with dread.

“What does it mean it stores secrets?”

Teodora took the diary from her, scanning the text quickly. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the page.

“My father mentioned this once. He believed the artifact wasn’t just a key to uncover hidden truths—it was a vessel. Every time someone used it, whatever was revealed got trapped inside. Like... a permanent memory. A record.”

Leo’s face darkened. “So, if someone could access those echoes—”

“They’d see everything,” Teodora finished. She closed the journal with a sharp snap. “Every secret the Keepers tried to hide. Every truth the artifact has ever exposed. That’s why it must stay sealed.”

Lucía leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “If Méndez knows that... he’s not just after the artifact’s power. He wants everything inside it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the revelation settling like dust in the air.

Eventually, they came to an agreement: they had to protect the artifact at all costs. No matter what Méndez tried.

“First, we set up diversions,” Leo said, sitting up straighter. “If Méndez comes back, he needs to think he’s on the right trail—even if he’s not.”

“Agreed,” Teodora said. “We’ll reinforce the basement access and plant false clues elsewhere in the building.”

Lucía tapped the page again, her eyes still drawn to the Keepers’ emblem.

“And this? If the Keepers left more behind—more records, more hiding places—we might be able to find something Méndez doesn’t have.”

Teodora nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful.

“There’s one place,” she said. “It’s not marked in the journal, but my father mentioned it once. A place even the Keepers rarely visited.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

Teodora stood, walking over to the bookshelf. She ran her hand along the dusty spines before pulling out an old architectural drawing of the building—one they hadn’t seen before. She laid it across the table and tapped a faint line in the corner of the blueprint.

“Here. The sub-level beneath the foundations. It was sealed before the building was finished. If there are answers left behind... they’re probably down there.”

Lucía looked at the faded line, her throat tight with anticipation.

“Then that’s where we go next.”

The light from the rising sun spilled across the table, catching the edge of the emblem in the diary. The past was speaking again—and this time, they were ready to listen.