Maya descends as quickly as she can, her hands clawing at the rough walls and dusty beams in her haste. She grimaces in pain with every scrape against the stone, but terror prevents her from slowing down. Finally, she reaches the lower level, only to find herself trapped in the oppressive maze of corridors behind the walls. Panic takes hold of her mind; each passage seems identical, every turn a repetition of the one before.

She loses all sense of direction. She wanted to reach her room, but the labyrinthine corridors swallow her. After what feels like an eternity, she finds herself back in the room with the drawings. Several corridors radiate from here. She drops her flashlight to the floor with a dull thud. The uncontrollable trembling of her hands prevents her from thinking clearly. Her memory slips away from her; she can't remember the right path. Her gaze falls on her clenched fingers, reaching for the notebook and the strange object stuffed in her pockets. Part of her wants to throw them away, but she hesitates, unable to part with them.

Jimmy. Jimmy had given her these items.

He had tried to help her. But what had changed? How had Hugo regained control? Maya grits her teeth, her confusion and terror swirling together. And those stories about entities that Ashford had told... She wishes she could laugh at their absurdity, but it all feels too real now. A shadow far too embodied.

She has to think. Be methodical. She can't bear the thought of being locked up again. Jenks. She needs to find Jenks. An insidious voice in her head whispers that she could just stay here, sit, and wait... Yet, another part of her screams that she knows Hugo. She knows what he's capable of. And no one is safe.

No, she has to move. She has to find help. If Jenks has already managed to alert reinforcements, there's still hope. She stuffs the objects back into her pocket, picks up her flashlight with a trembling hand, and heads resolutely down one of the corridors.

The minutes that follow feel endless until she suddenly stops in front of a mirror. Behind the glass, she glimpses a room plunged in complete darkness. Yet, a thin beam of moonlight filters through a window, illuminating a small portion of a bedroom. Maya hesitantly places a hand on the mirror, trying to push it, but it remains firmly in place. Her mind desperately clings to Jimmy's words.

"Use this to open and close the mirrors."

Her hand instinctively reaches for the small object, lifting the flashlight to examine it. Looking like a small box, it appears cold, metallic. Following her instincts, she presses it against the frame. Finally, a faint click breaks the oppressive silence. She holds her breath. Carefully, she pushes on the reflective surface, and it slides slightly. She enters the room and exhales a sigh of relief as she slowly closes the mirror behind her.

She takes the object, inspects the edges of the mirror on the side she now stands, and repeats the motion. Once again, a slight click is heard, followed by the subtle locking of the mirror as it seals against the wall. Maya stares at the object with a sense of awe. A key, probably a magnet system. Why such a mechanism? Why this twisting architecture and its secrets? Questions flood her mind, but she pushes them aside. She doesn't have the luxury to dwell on them. Not now.

She moves quietly across the room, heading towards the door to the main corridor. She presses her ear against it, trying to catch any sound. Silence reigns. Not a murmur, not an echo. Maya leans down to peer through the keyhole, but all she sees is the pale glow of emergency lights faintly flickering in the corridor. Nothing seems to move.

Summoning her courage, she takes a deep breath, holds it, and carefully turns the doorknob. The door creaks open with a faint sound that raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Maya glances carefully, scanning both ends of the hallway. No sign of Ashford, her men, and most importantly, no Hugo. The silence is heavy, almost suffocating.

She steps forward slowly, easing her head around the threshold to get a better look. She examines the other doors, the walls, scrutinizing every shadow with a feverish attention. Her hands tremble on the flashlight, but she forces herself to move a little further. This moment painfully reminds her of her night at the Sea View Hotel. She relives every instant of that nightmare: the suffocating anxiety, the feeling that someone is always hiding just around the next corner. But this time, she feels something much worse.

She suddenly realizes that this isn't a nightmare repeating. It's as if she never left it. A visceral fear clenches her stomach. Every step she takes feels fragile, each breath too loud. She steps out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. No noise, no movement comes from above. Maybe Ashford had the sense to lock the second-floor apartments? It's a possibility. But she knows that if a closed door can slow down Jimmy, it will do nothing against Hugo.

Clutching the flashlight against her chest, she resolutely turns in the opposite direction and heads down the hallway. She moves quickly, but her steps remain cautious, muffled by the thick rugs covering the floorboards. Even so, she makes an effort to stay close to the walls, avoiding the center of the boards that might creak under her weight. At every corner, she stops, pressing her back against the wall and stealing a quick glance to make sure no threat appears.

She finally reaches the service staircase. She stops at the top of the stairs, listens intently, but nothing moves. Taking a deep breath, she descends the steps, one by one, with methodical slowness. Her soles slip slightly on the polished wood, but she grips the banister, her joints turning white from the force of her hold.

Once on the ground floor, she fights against the primal urge that screams at her to run to the exit at full speed. Her movements slow, almost painfully, each action measured to the extreme. She crosses the dining room, bathed in semi-darkness, moving quickly but cautiously, her eyes scanning every shadow in the room. In the hall, she casts a furtive glance toward the main staircase, her eyes searching for any movement in the darkness.

To her immense relief, the front door appears wide open. The cold night wind rushes into the small hall, bringing with it some snow that forms a thin carpet on the floor. Maya quickens her pace slightly, slipping into the entryway, her heart pounding. A rush of icy air envelops her, biting her skin, but she savors it: the smell of the outside, the sensation of free air, even hostile, has an almost euphoric taste.

She cautiously leans down to peek outside. The path to the gate is barely visible, covered in snow. In the moonlight, she distinguishes the silhouettes of Jeffrey and Robert, a few dozen meters away. Armed with shovels, they work with an almost desperate frenzy, clearing the path as if their lives depend on it. They seem terrified of staying near the house any longer. Maya watches them for a moment, a strange mix of satisfaction and relief flooding over her. At least their panic plays in everyone's favor: their work will ease the arrival of potential reinforcements.

But she knows she can't run now. The freezing temperatures and snow make an immediate escape suicidal, and Ashford's men would likely block any attempt. With a resigned sigh, she cautiously steps back into the house, reluctantly. At least she's not completely trapped. She takes one final deep breath, letting the cold air burn her lungs, an almost liberating sensation.

This small consolation lasts only a moment. No sooner has she returned than the reality of the manor crashes down on her again. The darkness inside seems thicker, more oppressive after this brief glimpse of freedom. She thinks quickly. She had hoped to run into him on her way, but Jenks remains nowhere to be found, and the idea of going back upstairs to search the rooms one by one sends a chill through her. Too risky. Too slow. She needs help now. Her phone. The cell phones are in Ashford's office. One step at a time.

She rushes into the hall, bypassing the main staircase to move down the corridor leading to the office. She finally reaches the door, but it's locked. Maya stops dead in her tracks, her body tense. Muffled sounds come from inside. She tries the handle once, twice, but it's stuck. So, she knocks, softly at first, then more insistently.

"Whoever you are... just leave!"

The terror in Ashford's voice is palpable. Normally, Maya would have relished this turn of events, but not this time. Not now.

"Elisabeth, open the door!"

A silence follows. Then hesitation.

"Maya?"

"Yes, it's me! Open the door, now, quickly!"

"No... he... he became like this because of you. All I did was mention your name and... I should never have brought you here! We would have made it otherwise! You... you're the trigger! It's all your fault!"

The words hit Maya like a blow. Despite the urgency, the familiar wave of guilt washes over her, an old weight resurfacing. But she doesn't have the luxury of letting herself be overwhelmed. She pounds on the door, furious and desperate.

"I don't care what you think! I need my phone! We have to contact the authorities!"

"The police? No, no, no. The police can't get involved in our business. I called Ryan. He'll know what to do..."

Maya vaguely recalls the name. Ryan Rand. The director of Phoenix. Or Atlas. It doesn't matter. She pounds again, harder. But another sound stops her cold.

BAM.

A powerful thud echoes from upstairs. Then another.

BAM.

Wood cracks, then gives way with a deafening crash. Maya immediately understands: Hugo just broke through a door. Terror fills her, her hands tremble, but she keeps pounding on the office door.

"Elisabeth, give me my phone! NOW!"

"You idiot… Stop making that noise. You'll attract him. You'll…"

An oppressive silence settles. Maya presses her ear to the door, but suddenly she hears a metallic, clear, and shrill sound. The bell. The same she used to announce dinner. Loud. Too loud.

"What are you doing?!"

"He wants you. If I give him what he wants… he... he'll leave us alone."

"No, don't do it!" Maya feels her blood run cold. She pounds again, hysterical. "Don't do it!"

"Oooooh… I can hear thaaaaat…"

A chilling laugh echoes from upstairs, a cruel, childlike laugh, a mocking, almost joyful voice humming. A shiver runs down Maya's spine.

"Ready or not, here I cooooooome!"

Maya hears hurried footsteps descending the first flight of stairs, then the main staircase. Panic twists in her gut, but she swallows a furious curse and abandons the door to Ashford's office. She turns on her heels and sprints silently, retracing her steps toward the service staircase near the dining room. She has to go up, find a mirror, and hide.

But as she reaches the first step, a powerful hand emerges from the shadows, grabs her and yanks her violently into a room. Another hand immediately presses against her lips. She struggles briefly, her heart pounding, before turning her head to find the tense but familiar face of Jenks. His piercing eyes command silence, and he releases his grip on her arm to press a finger to his lips.

Maya nods, trembling, and Jenks gently pushes her behind him. He doesn't close the door all the way, leaving it ajar to watch the hallway. Maya quickly turns off her flashlight, her hands still shaking.

She glances around to assess their hiding place. The library. The walls are lined with dark wood paneling and shelves sagging under the weight of old books, some sealed behind glass cases. A few period armchairs and plush sofas seem to have been arranged for comfortable reading. Two small doors likely lead to adjacent sitting rooms or boudoirs. A fireplace softly purrs in the shadows, casting flickering glows. But the room remains shrouded in an oppressive gloom.

Jenks, however, stays focused. He watches the hallway through the crack, raising a finger to Maya without even looking at her, signaling her to remain still and silent. His taut muscles and complete stillness betray his vigilance. The footsteps grow louder. They're close, stopping in front of Ashford's office. Then, a chilling laugh rises, too close, too intimate.

"So… shall we play a game of hide-and-seek again?"

Hugo revels in the moment, his sing-song voice relishing the situation. Maya feels a cold shiver run down her spine. A heavy silence settles, then the footsteps resume, this time dangerously close.

Jenks reacts immediately. Without a word, he spins around and grabs Maya by the wrist. She follows him, nearly stumbling, thinking he's leading them to one of the small adjacent rooms to hide. But no. Jenks heads straight for one of the large windows draped with heavy curtains. He gently but firmly pushes her against the wall, pulling one of the massive, thick curtains to wrap her in it. The drapes hang from the ceiling to the floor, creating a perfect hiding spot. He adjusts the fabric to cover Maya completely, wrapping her in shadow.

Through the fabric, she hears her own ragged breaths and the rustling of the opposite curtains, which Jenks drapes over himself as well. A second later, the library door swings open abruptly, slamming against the wall with a dull thud.

Maya remains frozen, her body taut with tension, like a stiff puppet suspended by an invisible thread. Arms at her sides, every muscle in her body screams under the strain of not moving. The thick curtain around her isolates her from the rest of the library, letting in no light or sight, but it amplifies every sound.

Hugo's footsteps echo on the polished floor, slow, almost lazy, then they quicken when he opens the door to the first adjacent salon. The sharp crack of the door slamming against the wall makes her flinch, but she stays motionless, her breath held in painful suspense. She hears the rustle of fabric, maybe a curtain he's inspecting in the next room, then another sharp sound when he opens the other salon door.

Thank God Jenks didn't hide them there. But that reassuring thought evaporates as quickly as it comes. The footsteps return, drawing dangerously close to the window where she hides. Soon, she hears Hugo's breath, shallow and uneven, mixing with the rustling of his clothes as he moves. An unbearable tension fills the air. He's there. Right behind the curtain. Strangely enough, he didn't seem comfortable getting too close to the window, as if something was preventing him from doing so.

A part of her mind panics, screaming that he knows. He knows. He's playing with you. The thought devours her as another inner voice desperately pleads: Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't do anything.

Hugo breathes harder, closer, so close that she swears she can feel the warm breath brushing against the curtain. Maya fights against the paralyzing dread. Her heart pounds so loudly she's sure he can hear it. He's going to reach out. He's going to touch the curtain. He's going to find her.

And then she feels it. A pressure, almost imperceptible, on the fabric at her hip. As if fingers were slowly exploring, feeling their way through the folds of the curtain. She closes her eyes, her throat tight with terror, praying that he will grow bored or that some miracle will happen.

Then, suddenly, a scream rings out from upstairs, slicing through the air like thunder. A high-pitched, female scream that seems to tear through the silence of the house. Maya can't tell if it's a phantom vision or a real scream until Hugo reacts. His footsteps retreat, hurried, leaving the library to rush up the stairs.

Maya remains hidden for a few more moments, paralyzed, until the silence takes over again. Finally, she releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, trembling, her legs ready to give way beneath her. Jenks suddenly pulls back the curtain, his face tense but focused, and grabs Maya by the shoulders, locking eyes with her. His blue eyes search hers, a point of anchor in the surrounding chaos.

"Are you okay?"

Maya mechanically nods, but her lips tremble. She holds on to his gaze, feeling her body ready to collapse. The urge to cry burns her eyes, an overwhelming mix of fear and relief. Jenks gently tightens his grip on her shoulders, pressing firmly, as if to transmit his presence.

"It's going to be okay. I'll get you to safety."

Maya shakes her head slightly, her voice trembling.

"We can't leave. I tried to get my phone, but..."

"Ashford, I know. I'll find a way to get her out of there, but I can't do it if I know you or the others are in danger."

Memories flood Maya's mind, and her voice cracks as she speaks of what she saw.

"They did something to them... with the masks... the rituals... Camille..."

Seeing her start to panic, Jenks leans slightly toward her, his face drawing closer to hers. He murmurs, his deep, soothing voice bringing her focus back.

"You'll explain everything when we're safe. For now, I need to get you to safety."

"Hugo won't let you," she whispers, her throat tight. "He's looking for me."

Despite her efforts to stay composed, tears fall, silent. Jenks, clearly affected, briefly presses his lips together, as if struggling to stay impassive.

"Hugo?"

"Jimmy's alter ego. Elias was right. Something horrible is happening here."

Jenks nods slowly, processing the information. His eyes wander briefly, searching for a solution.

"Okay... Elias. He knew Jimmy, right? Hugo, whatever the name. Maybe he could talk to him."

"I don't know where his room is..."

"I do. Stay close to me. And if I tell you to run, no matter what the situation, you run. Understood?"

He extends a firm hand, his rough palm reassuring. He moves ahead, advancing cautiously, each step measured. They move slowly, like fleeting shadows, stopping at every corner. Jenks checks the angles, ensuring the way is clear before signaling to Maya to move forward. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, he raises a hand to signal her to wait, climbs a few steps alone, then gives her a quick wave to follow.

They continue this way, methodically, their movements synchronized like a survival ballet. Every door, every sound causes them to pause, their breaths light but quick. Finally, Jenks stops in front of a door, glancing over his shoulder at Maya. His blue eyes meet hers again, then, without announcing himself, he enters.

The scene that greets them as they enter the room is as strange as it is unsettling. Elias, sitting cross-legged by the wide open window, appears completely lost in his own world. He holds a small paper airplane, flying it in front of him, mimicking engine sounds with his mouth. His voice now carries a childlike tone, full of innocence—a little boy's voice. Jenks and Maya exchange a look of confusion. The inspector slowly closes the door behind them.

"Elias?" he calls, his voice firm but cautious.

No response. The priest continues to float his airplane, his head tilting slightly, as if his body were becoming too heavy or foreign to him. His clumsy movements remind Maya of what she had seen in Camille, when Sara had taken over her.

Jenks crouches slowly next to him, studying his face, the white mask featureless, revealing no emotion. Maya hangs back, uncomfortable, her gaze drifting to the desk. She notices scattered papers and pencils, childish drawings spread out in disarray. One depicts a little boy playing with toys from another century. On another, the same child cries in front of a frightening woman, her eyes disproportionately large and her mouth wide open, as if screaming. Arrows label the figures: Mom and Peter.

Meanwhile, Jenks waves his hand in front of the priest's eyes, then snaps his fingers near his ears, hoping for a reaction. Nothing. Maya, disturbed by the drawing she's holding, turns to Elias and hesitantly calls out.

"Peter?"

Suddenly, the priest lifts his head. The expressionless mask swivels toward her, the movement jerky, like a poorly articulated puppet.

"I've been good today," he murmurs in that childlike voice, betraying a mix of fear and hope. "Will you tell mommy I've been good? I don't like it when she screams."

Jenks recoils almost reflexively, his eyes wide in shock.

"What is going on here?" he whispers, overwhelmed.

Maya, however, understands.

"How old are you, Peter?"

"I'm six," Elias answers with disarming simplicity, as if that explains everything.

Before Jenks can form a coherent thought, a door slams violently somewhere in the hallway. The sound of footsteps grows louder, heavy, relentless. Elias – or rather Peter – jumps, his shoulders tensing. Panicked, he runs to a corner of the room, his heartbreaking sobs filling the air.

"Come on, over here!" Maya whispers to Jenks, tugging at his sleeve while quickly unlocking the wall mirror with the magnetic key.

Jenks helps her open the secret passage, but their attempts to coax Peter into it fail. He refuses to move, terrified enough to remain frozen in his corner. Jenks grabs Maya and pulls her with him into the mirror, closing the panel just in time. Through it, they can see Hugo storm into the room. His furious eyes sweep the room, his face marked by barely contained rage, his dried blood and bruises turning blue.

"Oh, we only hear you, little shit," he growls as he heads straight toward Peter.

He rips the white mask from Elias' face. The latter blinks, as though waking from a strange dream. He seems disoriented, his face marked by exhaustion and shock.

"Jimmy?" he breathes, recognizing the person standing before him.

Hugo, caught off guard, takes a step back.

"Jimmy, is that you? It's me, Elias. Do you remember me, boy?"

Hugo hesitates, his expression flickering between confusion and anger. Elias slowly approaches, his arms outstretched in a soothing gesture.

"It's okay, son. I know what you've been through."

To Maya and Jenks' surprise, Hugo doesn't react. He stands still, allowing Elias to gently embrace him. And then, something changes on his face. A deep, old pain seems to rise to the surface. His features relax, and suddenly, he bursts into tears. Jimmy had returned.

"Father... I can't take it anymore... Make it stop, please."

"I know, my son, I know. We'll leave this place, and everything will be alright. I promise."

But Jimmy shakes his head vehemently, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"No... no, not at all. If I leave, he'll come back. You have to listen... ARGH!"

His voice abruptly changes, twisting with visible pain. When he speaks again, it's no longer him.

"You should have listened, priest."

With a sudden, terrifying motion, Jimmy charges at Elias, lifts him partially, and hurls him through the open window. His scream is brief: Maya and Jenks, frozen in horror, hear the priest's body crash to the ground below. The silence that follows is deafening. At the same moment, Hugo turns away and breaks the white mask with a heel strike.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned ... and loved it!"