Chapter 2 Nyx Is Born

Jasmine's POV

The day I walked out of Crestfall, humiliated and broken, I swore I would never be weak again. Never again would I let whispers shred me to pieces, or watch people I trusted turn their backs while I burned. Jasmine Duvall... the naïve girl who once believed in loyalty, in love disappeared from the real world, leaving only Nyx in the internet world.

Seven years later, I wasn't Jasmine anymore. Jasmine was a ghost. In her place, Nyx was born.

Nyx was feared.

Nyx was untouchable.

Nyx was me.

The glow of multiple monitors bathed my hideout in fractured light. Lines of code streamed like veins of fire across black screens. My fingers flew over the keyboard, precise, ruthless, unrelenting. I wasn't playing at survival anymore, I was in control.

Three monitors cast a cold blue haze across my face, their glow steady, dependable, the only constant I had allowed myself. I slipped my headphones over my ears, the bass thumping like a war drum, syncing with the adrenaline already surging through my veins.

"Connection established," my AI interface purred through the speakers. I had written her voice soft and elegant, almost mocking the girl I used to be.

The chat window blinked open. Another client. Another desperate soul willing to pay a fortune for what only I could deliver.

CLIENT: Are you in?

NYX: Always.

CLIENT: They said you're the best. Untouchable.

NYX: They're right. Transfer the advance.

Seconds later, the numbers rolled into my offshore account. Clean. Untraceable. The kind of money that bought silence, new identities, and a past erased.

I launched the breach. Firewalls folded under me like wet paper. Security protocols screamed, alarms pulsed... but I slipped through, silent, unseen. Power surged in my chest. I wasn't the hunted girl anymore. I was the wolf in the dark.

Thomas Raines. A name rotting in the business headlines, though no one dared say it aloud. Corrupt CEO. Launderer. Exploiter. He thought his money bought silence. He thought his offshore accounts made him untouchable.

He hadn't met me yet.

"Alright, Thomas," I muttered, fingers poised above the keyboard. "Let's see what kind of skeletons you've buried."

Lines of code streamed across my screens, my hands moving faster than thought. Firewalls crumbled like paper, encryptions bent and warped. Seven years of exile had taught me how to survive, but more importantly, it had taught me how to strike. My pulse quickened with every barrier I broke.

"Security breach detected," a synthetic voice warned.

I smirked. "Cute."

My keystrokes became a dance, a blur. I tunneled deeper into the labyrinth of data, pushing through traps meant to scare lesser hackers. Not me. I thrived in chaos, in the razor's edge between brilliance and disaster.

Then I found it... the offshore account. Millions siphoned through shell companies, blood money hidden beneath polished boardroom smiles. Victory surged through me as the numbers scrolled down the screen.

"Got you," I breathed. My grin widened. "Time to burn your empire down."

But just as I initiated the data transfer, the screen glitched. A jarring flash of red cut through the blue.

A message. Encrypted. Untraceable.

I froze, pulse stuttering. Messages like this weren't random. Someone knew exactly where I was.

My throat tightened as the words blinked onto the screen.

"Your mother is dead. Come home."

For a heartbeat, everything inside me went still. The hum of the processors, the bass in my ears... it all vanished, drowned out by those five words.

"No..." My voice cracked, foreign in my own ears. "No, it can't be."

The image of her rushed in... her laughter on late summer evenings, the warmth of her hands tucking my hair behind my ear, the quiet resilience in her eyes when everything else crumbled. I hadn't seen her in years. Not since Crestfall. Not since the day I promised myself I'd never go back.

I ripped the headphones off, sucking in a sharp breath. My chest burned as if someone had reached inside and torn me open. I had built my life on walls - digital and emotional. And yet, a single message had punched straight through.

I clenched my fists. "Get it together, Jas."

But the name tasted bitter. Jasmine. The girl I used to be.

No.

I was Nyx. Nyx didn't break. Nyx didn't bleed.

Still, my hands trembled as I wiped the tears threatening to surface.

Was it true? Or was this a trap? The hacker in me screamed caution. A message like that, sent through an untraceable channel? Too perfect. Too deliberate. Someone knew how to pull me back. Someone wanted me in Crestfall.

But what if it was real?

What if she was gone, and I hadn't even said goodbye?

I slammed my palm against the desk, jaw tight. "Damn it."

For seven years I had buried Crestfall, buried her, buried every piece of who I once was. But blood doesn't vanish. Memories don't delete as easily as code. And now the ghosts were clawing back to the surface.

I forced my breathing steady. If my mother was dead, then I needed answers. Answers only Crestfall could give.

"Alright, Thomas," I muttered coldly, pulling the USB drive from the port. "You'll have to wait. I've got bigger demons to hunt."

One by one, I wiped my tracks clean, severing connections, covering footprints until nothing remained but silence. It was second nature now, like erasing myself from existence.

I packed my gear quickly, my movements sharp, mechanical, masking the storm inside. This wasn't just about a mother's death. This was about whoever thought they could drag me back with one message.

I pulled on my jacket, fingers tightening around the zipper as if it could ground me. My sanctuary... the safe house I had built brick by brick, firewall by firewall, suddenly felt like a cage. I needed out. I needed answers.

The message blinked again on my monitor, almost taunting me.

"Your mother is dead. Come home."

I grabbed my keys and turned away, only to freeze as the screen flickered one last time.

A second line appeared, slow, deliberate.

"We've been waiting, Nyx."

The blood drained from my face. My pulse pounded in my ears. Whoever sent this didn't just know about Jasmine. They knew about Nyx.

The name I had built in shadows. The name no one was supposed to trace.

A chill crawled up my spine. I wasn't being asked to come home.

I was being summoned.

And someone was already watching.