Night.
The city never learns. Every crime scene fades, every body bag zipped too tight to talk. But tonight — two nightmares breathe the same stale air.
---
A Basement, Somewhere Near Midtown
The Surgeon works under a flickering bulb — latex gloves, apron crisp and clean. His patient gurgles on the stained dentist's chair — wrists strapped, mouth forced open with steel clamps.
He hums Chopin through yellowed teeth as he cuts — a line along the scalp, precise, loving. A voice recorder clicks on the tray.
> "Perfection is a song," he croons. "The body begs for shape. And I am the conductor."
Blood drips onto an old newspaper headline: BLACK RAVEN SAVES CHILD FROM SERIAL KILLER. A photo from two years ago — a boy cowering in her cloak. The Surgeon escaped that night, his masterpiece ruined.
Tonight he finishes what he started.
---
On a Rooftop
Selene crouches, watching a shipment of Crow's poison roll into an abandoned storage yard — an eighteen-wheeler full of chemicals disguised as industrial cleaners.
Micah's voice hisses: "Confirmed. Crow's cooking a variant — triple the hook, half the wait. If this hits the streets, detox clinics'll drown."
Selene's fingers tighten around her throwing blades.
> "We torch it tonight. No trial."
Micah tries for humor:
> "Love it when you talk arson to me, boss."
She almost smiles. Almost.
---
A Familiar Ghost
Below — a blur of movement. A kid's too-small hoodie, cheap shoes. Rafi — wide-eyed, fumbling with his flip phone, trying to film the exchange.
Selene curses under her breath. "Micah — the kid's here. Again."
> "What kid— oh, that kid. I'll ping him a fake pizza delivery job—"
Too late.
---
A Collision
Three blocks away — The Surgeon's "work" wraps up. He wipes the blood from his scalpel, peeks through a boarded window, and sees police lights. But more than that: the whisper of feathers in the alley below. A shape that once stole his masterpiece.
He smiles. He follows.
---
Chaos Erupts
Selene leaps — wings spread — landing in the path of the truck. Her claws rake the tires, engine screaming metal on asphalt. Thugs draw weapons — too slow.
Rafi squeals behind a crate — phone aimed at her like a shrine.
Suddenly — the shadows behind him shift. Not Moloch. Not Crow's goons. A pale, grinning man in surgeon's garb. He grabs Rafi by the collar — a scalpel pressed to his cheek.
> "A perfect little shape," the Surgeon murmurs. "Better than the last—"
Selene spins at the sound — eyes widen. The one who slipped through her claws. The freak who makes corpses pose.
She lunges — too late. A massive shadow barrels through the fence — Moloch Horn, called by Crow to finish what he started.
Two monsters. One Raven.
---
The Fight
Bullets. Sparks. Metal screams. Moloch charges — fists like battering rams. Selene pivots, blade flashing, clipping his side. The Surgeon laughs, dragging Rafi backward, scalpel kissing his throat.
Micah's voice roars in her earpiece: "Selene — focus! You got a bull and a butcher, pick one!"
Selene feints left — cracks a flashbang. Moloch staggers, roaring rage. She dives for Rafi — claws bite the Surgeon's wrist. Blood. The boy tumbles free.
> "Run, Rafi! RUN!"
He does — but not before he glances back. The last thing he sees is The Raven locked between monsters.
---
A Second Escape
The Surgeon hisses — pulls a hidden blade, slices her thigh. Selene stumbles — Moloch's massive arm swings like a wrecking ball.
It all blurs — bone, steel, concrete.
She doesn't remember how she crawls free — only that the truck burns behind her, the chemicals blooming black fire into the sky. Sirens wail. She staggers through back alleys, blood leaking through her suit, memories of her father's murder flashing behind her eyes like broken film.
---
Later — The Nest
Jess stitches her leg, fingers trembling. Selene winces — a rare sign she still feels pain.
Micah paces. "That Surgeon freak — he's local. Slippery as oil. If he teams with Crow—"
Selene cuts him off. Her eyes flick to Jess — softening for a second. She almost says thank you. Almost.
Jess touches her cheek — hesitant, like testing a dream. Their breath mingles. Something unspoken flickers.
But Selene pulls back — a mask sliding back into place. The dark needs distance.
---
The City Whispers
On TV, Kara Lennox's news bulletin runs raw:
> "A chemical fire in Dockyard East tonight — witnesses report a figure in black feathers fleeing the scene. Officials refuse comment. Is The Raven losing control — or just beginning to?"
In the background — Councilman Adair promises order if elected. Grace Lawton vows to "bring the vigilante to justice — or harness her as the city's secret weapon."
Both sides feed the same fire.
---
The Surgeon's Den
In a rotten basement, the Surgeon hums, sewing his bleeding wrist. A wall behind him shows a shrine: crime clippings, feathers, blurry photos of Selene, a child's scribbled drawing of Rafi.
> "Perfection takes time," he coos to his shadows. "And tonight I saw the shape of mine."
---
The Bull King's Rage
Moloch Horn roars in an abandoned slaughterhouse — punching old iron beams until they bend like reeds.
> "She's good. Next time — better bones to break."
---
One Spark
Rafi limps home — bruised, bloody, wild-eyed. He hides his cracked phone under his pillow — footage shaky but real. The Raven saved him. Again.
Outside his window, a single black feather drifts from his jacket pocket.
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END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN