9:15 AM – Dr. Thorne's Office, St. Ignatius Hospital
The door clicked shut behind Rebecca Barker as she stepped inside, her badge glinting under the fluorescent lights. Benjamin Moore sat perched on the edge of Thorne's desk, arms crossed, his usual smirk in place—but his eyes were sharp, tracking her every move.
"Detective," he drawled. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Here to arrest me for saving the board from themselves?"
Rebecca didn't smile. "Two complaints were filed this morning. One by hospital security—unauthorized entry by a man in a blue hooded jacket."
Benjamin's fingers twitched. Rahul.
"And the second?"
"Harold Greyson filed a restraining order against you. Through Ethan Cole."
Benjamin barked a laugh. "Of course he did. I kicked him to snap him out of his rage-induced meltdown."
Rebecca's lips quirked. "Quoting Socrates here—'No man has the right to be an amateur in the matter of physical training. It is a shame for a man to grow old without seeing the beauty and strength of which his body is capable.'" She paused. "Though I doubt Harold's body is capable of much."
Benjamin's smirk widened. "Ah, but remember Galileo? They laughed at him too when he said the Earth moved. Called him a fool. Right up until they saw it."
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You're comparing yourself to Galileo now?"
"I'm saying people mock what they don't understand." He leaned forward. "Speaking of—you didn't mention the brawl to your captain, did you?"
Rebecca's expression darkened. "No. But I will if it happens again."
Benjamin studied her. "You don't believe it was just stress, do you?"
She didn't answer.
10:30 AM – Rebecca's Patrol Car
The rain had started again, streaking the windshield as Rebecca gripped the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed—Captain Reyes.
She answered on speaker. "Barker."
"Shut down the blue hoodie case," Reyes said, his voice gruff. "No photo, no description beyond 'some guy in a hood'—it's a waste of time."
Rebecca's knuckles whitened. "With all due respect, Captain, this 'some guy' might be connected to the explosion and the hospital incident."
"You got proof?"
No. Just a gut feeling and a surgeon who sees things he shouldn't.
"Working on it," she said tightly.
Reyes sighed. "Drop it, Barker. That's an order."
The line went dead.
Rebecca stared at her phone.
Someone got to him.
11:00 PM – Benjamin's Penthouse
The penthouse was dark, the city lights below smearing into a blur through the rain-streaked windows. Benjamin sat slumped in his leather armchair, a half-empty bottle of Macallan 25 on the table beside him.
He'd been drinking since sunset.
Black haze. Blue haze. Gods and mirrors and fucking rage epidemics.
His head throbbed. He couldn't reconcile it. He was a doctor. A man of science. But he'd seen it—
The way Rahul's haze slithered into the boardroom.
The way time had stuttered in the alley.
"Bullshit," he muttered, draining his glass.
Then, in a surge of frustration, he hurled the tumbler at the mirror across the room.
The glass froze mid-air.
Whiskey droplets hung like amber stars, suspended. The hum of the AC vanished. The rain outside stopped mid-fall.
Benjamin's breath caught.
"Idiot."
The voice came from the mirror.
A woman stood there now—tall, her form shifting between solid and smoke, her eyes two pools of liquid shadow.
"Do you believe in the supernatural now?"
Benjamin staggered back. "I'm hallucinating. Too much whiskey."
The woman—Vespera—rolled her eyes. "You've seen the black haze of death since childhood. The blue haze of rage. You know what you are."
Benjamin's pulse roared. "What I am?"
"The son of Hades."
He laughed, wild and unhinged. "Right. And I suppose Cleopatra was my babysitter?"
Vespera sighed. "Your father walks the mortal world as Corbin Moore. A name meaning raven—the bird that ferries souls. How have you not pieced this together?"
Benjamin's mind raced.
Corbin. Corvus. Hades' sacred raven.
"No," he whispered.
"Yes." Vespera stepped closer, her reflection rippling. "The black haze? Death's whisper. The blue? Wrath's touch. And this—" She gestured to the frozen room. "Your birthright. The power to still time itself."
Benjamin's knees buckled. He caught himself on the desk.
"Why now?" he rasped.
"Because Wrath is rising. And you, little godling, are unprepared."
Vespera stepped forward, her gaze sharp. "Are you ready to be trained?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
To which he responded with a silent nod, the weight of his choice settling in the air between them.
Vespera's voice echoed in his skull.
"Focus. The world is liquid. You are the stone."
Benjamin stood before the mirror, eyes closed, sweat dripping down his temples. In his mind, he walked through a realm of shadows—the Underworld's edge.
"Control your rage, or it will control you," Vespera warned. "Wrath's disciples will try to drown you in it."
Benjamin gritted his teeth. "How do I fight something I can't see?"
"You can see it. You always have."
A knock at the door.
Benjamin ignored it.
The knocking turned to pounding.
"Moore! Open up!" Rebecca's voice.
Vespera hissed. "She'll break in. Pull yourself out—gently."
Benjamin's eyes flew open—
Too late.
The door splintered open.
Rebecca stood in the doorway, her gun drawn, her breath ragged.
Benjamin was motionless, eyes closed, standing before the mirror.
"Benjamin?"
No response.
She holstered her gun and grabbed the fire bucket from the hallway.
"This'll wake you up," she muttered.
The water hit him like a tidal wave.
Benjamin gasped, staggering back. The frozen glass shattered against the mirror, whiskey spraying.
Vespera's laughter echoed in his ears. "Next time, lock the door."
Then she was gone.
Rebecca grabbed his shoulders. "What the hell was that?"
Benjamin coughed, water dripping from his hair. "Meditation. Deep… very deep meditation."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "You didn't hear me breaking your door down?"
"I was very focused."
She stared at him. Then at the mirror. Then at the still-dry whiskey droplets on the wall.
"Bullshit," she whispered.
Benjamin wiped his face. "Funny. I said the same thing ten minutes ago."