Equinox's rehearsal space was nothing like Monarch's bright studio.
It was an abandoned basement under their entertainment building, walls painted black, air thick with candle smoke. Mirrors lined one side, cracked and warped at the edges.
Where Monarch trained in sweat and discipline, Equinox trained in silence.
Yul stood barefoot in the center of the floor, shirt loose around his shoulders, his hair still damp from dye. His gold eyes glowed faintly in the candlelight, the glamour barely holding.
Around him, his members watched.
Juno leaned against the wall, arms folded. "You're pushing it too far. Every time you peel back the glamour, someone feels it. Even across the city."
"That's the point," Yul said softly. His voice carried like smoke. "He needs to feel it. Or he'll never be ready."
The Ritual Training
Rien set down a black-lacquered box in the middle of the floor. When he opened it, shards of mirror gleamed inside, still stained with ichor from the attack on Monarch's dorm.
"They bleed when the veil thins," Rien murmured. "We can use them."
One by one, the Equinox members placed their hands over the shards. The glass pulsed faintly, red veins crawling across its surface as it drank their energy.
When Yul touched it last, the shards glowed like molten gold. The air shimmered, heat licking at the walls. For a second, the studio looked less like a basement and more like a cathedral set on fire.
Juno hissed. "You'll burn yourself out."
Yul smiled faintly, lips pale. "I've burned before."
Private Doubts
Later, when the others dispersed, Juno lingered.
"You saw him again, didn't you?" he asked.
Yul didn't look up. He was sitting cross-legged in front of a candle, the light painting his jaw in sharp lines. "Yes."
"And?"
"And he didn't flinch," Yul whispered. "Do you know how rare that is? A hunter who looks a demon in the eye and doesn't turn away? He didn't fear me. He saw me."
"That's dangerous," Juno snapped. "If you want to feed, feed. If you want to fight, fight. But don't confuse hunger with… whatever this is."
Yul finally raised his gaze, and there was fire behind it. "It's not hunger. It's recognition."
Across the City
At the same hour Monarch's voices were hoarse from sparring, Equinox's voices rose in unholy harmony. They weren't singing melodies meant for charts. They were channeling power, bending air, letting their voices cut through the thinning veil like knives.
If Monarch's training was sweat and bruises—Equinox's was blood and resonance.
And in two mirrored studios, two different groups prepared for the same storm.
Neither knowing exactly when it would hit.
Only certain that it would.