POV: Seraphine
Finally alone with Vixzen.
Sera leaned against the counter, trying to act like this was no big deal. Inside, her thoughts were ricocheting. A girl like this had just hacked three lives wide open and strolled in with cursed kitchenware like it was a housewarming gift.
Vixzen wandered through the apartment as if she'd been there a dozen times before, making snide commentary on everything she saw — including the duck in the freezer.
"You have the energy of a woman who's one bottle of wine away from burning down a wedding venue," Vixzen said, flicking open a cabinet without asking.
"You hacked into three people's files for friendship," Seraphine shot back. "Who's unwell here again?"
"Unwell is a strong word. I prefer emotionally resourceful."
"You dropped classified blackmail in a novelty USB shaped like a fox tail," Sera said flatly. "That's not resourceful. That's aggressively weird."
"It's called branding. You wouldn't understand — you're still hoarding trauma and expired soy sauce."
"It's decorative."
"It's fermenting."
They both smirked. The air between them shifted — still prickly, but less sharp.
Sera sipped her coffee. "What did you mean? 'Comrades with similar appetites.'"
Vixzen's tone softened. "Let's just say hunger takes a lot of forms. Most kitsune feed off ambient energy, emotions, elements. I need more. If I'm not careful, I drain lakes dry or wither gardens just by being near them. I burn through nature the way others burn through lovers."
Sera didn't press. She recognized the weight behind that confession — the cost of saying it.
They didn't promise friendship, not outright. But in the quiet that followed, something like a pact settled between them.
---
POV: Kaiden
Elysium Global Defense was a shrine to order: spotless floors, sterile lighting, reinforced glass. The kind of place where nothing personal lingered.
Kaiden sat beside Silas Crox's hospital bed. Machines hummed in steady rhythms, IV bags swayed gently, oxygen lines curled like pale vines. The only proof of life was in Silas's eyes — sharp, aware, locked on him.
"Dad…" His voice barely broke the quiet. The look in Silas's eyes softened instantly.
Kaiden hesitated, then clasped his father's thin hand, careful not to apply too much pressure.
"Dad… I found her. I think I finally understand what you meant all those years ago."
A tear slipped before he could stop it. "Please don't give up. You have to meet her. She's… she's something else."
The monitor ticked on.
He leaned in, voice trembling. "There's something wrong here. People are disappearing — your people. No signs, no traces. It's like they never existed."
His grip tightened. "I don't want to imagine what they're going through."
He bowed his head. "How do I be like you? You found me when I was nothing — starving, broken — and you pulled me out like I mattered. I almost gave up that day, and you didn't let me."
A soft knock interrupted him. Zaire stood in the doorway.
Kaiden squeezed his father's hand, clapped Zaire's shoulder, and left without another word.
---
POV: Zaire
He replaced Kaiden at Silas's side, settling stiffly into the chair.
"Father."
Silas's gaze didn't waver — warm, steady.
Zaire exhaled slowly. "I've spent a lifetime trying to understand emotions. I studied them like puzzles I could solve if I just… watched long enough. But today…"
His voice caught. "Dad… I found someone who makes me feel. It's… overwhelming. I don't know what it is, but it's not fading."
Silas's eyelids twitched, and for the first time in months, the faintest curve touched his lips.
Zaire's chest tightened. "I've failed you. I tried to run the company. Protect the others. But they're gone. One by one. My brothers. My sisters. All of them disappearing."
He swallowed hard.
"I walk these halls and I don't see your legacy anymore — I see ghosts."
He stayed there, silent, unwilling to let go of his father's hand.
---
POV: Theodore
Theo caught Kaiden in the hall, then Zaire.
"Looks like they beat me to it," he muttered, stepping forward.
The door opened. Zaire stood there — eyes red.
Theo froze. He'd seen Zaire walk through fire without blinking, take bullets without a sound. Never this.
Without a word, Theo stepped in. Sat down beside the hospital bed.
"Hi, Papa."
The steady monitor beep filled the silence.
"I met my mate today," Theo said. "Or what humans call the love of their lives." His lips curved faintly. "She wasn't afraid of me. Didn't flinch. Called me her teddy bear."
He gave a soft laugh, almost boyish. "Everyone else calls me a monster. But not her."
Silas's fingers closed weakly around his hand.
Theo's voice lowered. "I failed, Papa. I couldn't protect the ones you gave me. They're disappearing — all of them. I don't know how. But I swear I'll keep trying."
He lingered, not wanting to blink and miss a moment.
"I'll let you rest. Get well soon."
He kissed his father's forehead, then stepped out into the hall.
---
The three of them met just outside, Zaire and Kaiden already in a low, tense argument.
"I'm telling you — this feels off. We're being manipulated," Zaire said.
Kaiden shook his head. "No. Look closer. She hates being a succubus."
"Not possible," Zaire said flatly. "Succubi are proud. Even half-bloods flaunt it — their magic, their beauty. It's all power."
"She doesn't have horns," Kaiden countered. "Not even filed down. Nothing."
Zaire's brow furrowed. "That doesn't make sense…"
Kaiden's eyes widened. "Where's the bottle? The SUC-A-BUST?"
Zaire pulled it from his coat. "Still have it."
Kaiden's jaw tightened. "I'm sending it to my team. I don't care what comes back — it doesn't change anything."
---
POV: Zaire
Back in his sleek, matte-black office lined with enchanted displays and steel bookshelves, Zaire skimmed yet another resignation file.
"Another one, sir…" His assistant placed it on the desk, her expression grim.
Nearly every day, a supernatural employee vanished. Humans replaced them.
He cross-referenced staff logs. Checked exit timestamps. Scanned personal channels.
Nothing.
He called Kaiden.
"They're ghosts," Kaiden said. "Homes empty. Lovers panicking. No signs they even existed."
"I've read every file backward," Zaire said. "No trail. No breach. Just… gone."
He opened a secure channel. Called a favor. "Cross-plane analysis. Class Five. Quietly."
---
POV: Theodore
"Patch all feeds," Theo barked into his earpiece, pacing his command center. "Level Three scrubs. Reroute field agents to Sector Seven. Manual override."
No system could catch the 3.5-second blind zones flickering across their defense grids.
Always at 3:47 a.m. Always 3.5 seconds. Never random.
His office was a fortress — bulletproof glass, armored filing cabinets, rune-etched floors glowing faintly. Triple monitors streamed live feeds from across the network.
Same blind spot. Same flicker.
"Lockdown sweep pattern. Adjust protocols. Run it again."
An alarm shattered the quiet.
Red lights bathed the room.
Theo turned toward the main screen.
"…We've got company."