The decrypted message from the Hunter hung in the air of the data-sanctum, a ghost that refused to be silenced. "To the one who stands in the sun and does not burn... The serpent seeks its kin."
Laura was the first to break the stunned silence. Her hand shot out, her fingers hovering over the terminal's control panel. "I'm deleting it," she whispered, her voice tight with panic. "No one else can hear this. If Vorlag finds out they contacted you directly..."
Jerry's own instincts screamed at him to let her do it. To erase this damning evidence. But another part of him, the part that had been starving for answers his entire life, held him back. "Wait."
His voice was calm, a stark contrast to the storm inside him. Laura froze, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Jerry, this is a trap! They're luring you out. They called you kin. If anyone else hears that, it's a death sentence!"
"I know," he said, his gaze fixed on the now-silent speaker. "But it's the first truth anyone has offered me since I was seven years old."
He replayed the message in his mind. "The one who holds the wolf at bay." They had seen him control his hunger. They had seen him not attack. They didn't see a Revenant; they saw a potential ally. Or a useful tool.
"We can't trust them," Laura insisted, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But... we can't ignore this either. Vorlag is building a case against you. The Council is divided. If they decide you're a heretic, your family won't be able to protect you." She took a deep breath, a terrifying resolve hardening her features. "We need to know what they know."
The "we" did not escape Jerry. It was a declaration. She was choosing his side, irrevocably.
Their analysis duty became a shield for their real investigation. Under the guise of cross-referencing data, they dug deeper. Jerry, with his preternaturally sharp mind, began searching for any fragment of information related to "serpent" symbolism, while Laura used her family's security clearance to access older, restricted archives about the early days of Crimson City, searching for any mention of "the purge" the Hunter had mentioned.
The official history was clear: Crimson City was founded as a sanctuary for vampires after the Great War with humanity, a place of order and safety. The "purge" was taught as a glorious victory over the last, disorganized human holdouts.
But the fragments they found in declassified military logs and personal diaries of deceased soldiers painted a different picture. It wasn't a battle; it was a massacre. A "sanitization." A specific sector of the human resistance, known for their alchemical prowess and identified by a serpent-and-chain symbol, had been systematically eradicated. Their research facilities were razed, their members executed. The official reason was "preventing the development of forbidden weapons."
"The source of the purge," Jerry murmured, looking at a map of the city's outskirts. "It wasn't just a place. It was a people. The Hunters today... they're the legacy of that group. They're not just rebels; they're survivors."
The knowledge was a ticking bomb. Possessing it made them complicit in heresy.
That evening, as Jerry prepared to leave the Citadel, a shadow detached itself from an alcove. It was Kael, his arm still bandaged, his expression a mixture of bitterness and newfound, grudging curiosity.
"The Ghost," Kael said, blocking his path. "You move fast in the Bullpen. Faster than you ever did in training."
Jerry remained silent, his body coiling with readiness.
"Relax," Kael sneered, though there was less heat in it than before. "I'm not Vorlag's snitch. That Hunter... he had me dead to rights. You and your... shove... interrupted him." He looked away, as if admitting this physically pained him. "The others might be too proud to say it, but I owe you for that. But don't think I don't see it. You're hiding something big. And if it blows back on the rest of us, I'll be the first to take you down."
It was not an alliance, but a warning. And a confirmation that Jerry's facade was crumbling from all sides.
The pressure reached its peak the next morning. A formal summons arrived, not from Captain Vorlag, but from the Office of the Grand Chancellor himself. The highest authority in Crimson City, aside from the ruling Council.
Panic, cold and sharp, gripped Jerry. This was it. The inquisition.
The Grand Chancellor's chamber was a vast, circular room at the pinnacle of the central spire. The walls were made of a single, continuous sheet of enchanted obsidian that showed a swirling, star-filled nebula. The Grand Chancellor, an androgynous vampire of indeterminate age with hair like spun moonlight and eyes that held the weight of centuries, sat on a simple throne of polished bone.
"Jerry," the Chancellor's voice was soft, yet it filled the immense space completely. "Your recent actions have caused quite a stir. Captain Vorlag sees a dangerous anomaly. Yet, the data from the Bullpen also shows you saved a noble daughter's life and displayed remarkable... control."
The Chancellor steepled their long, pale fingers. "The Council is split. The traditionalists, led by Inquisitor Morvan, see a deviation that must be corrected. The progressive faction, which I lead, sees potential. A new kind of strength for our kind. Your immunity to the sun alone is a strategic asset we have not seen in a millennium."
Jerry's mind raced. This wasn't an accusation; it was a recruitment. A far more dangerous one.
"We are on the brink of a new conflict with the human resistance," the Chancellor continued. "The old ways may not be enough. I am authorizing a new, covert initiative. 'Project Daywalker.' And I want you to be its first operative. You will receive advanced training, resources, and authority. In return, you will pledge your loyalty to my faction and help us end this human insurgency for good."
It was everything his father had ever wanted for him: recognition, status, power. But it was a gilded leash. To accept would mean becoming the Council's ultimate weapon against the very people who might hold the key to his identity. He would have to hunt the Hunters, the only ones who had ever called him "kin."
He was being asked to choose a master: the suspicious Vorlag, the rebellious Hunters, or the manipulative Chancellor.
He bowed his head, playing the part of the humble, honored student. "This is... a great honor, Grand Chancellor. May I have time to consider? To discuss it with my family?"
The Chancellor smiled, a thin, bloodless curve of the lips. "Of course. Take one night. But remember, Jerry, in times of war, neutrality is a luxury. And those who are not clearly under my protection... are vulnerable to my enemies."
The threat was clear. Accept, or be left to the mercy of Inquisitor Morvan and Vorlag.
As Jerry left the spire, the weight of the decision felt like a mountain on his shoulders. He was running out of time and options. The Chancellor's offer was a cage. Vorlag's suspicion was a noose. The Hunter's invitation was a leap into the unknown.
That night, in the absolute privacy of his room, he accessed the hidden data chip he had secretly copied from the Task Force. He played the Hunter's message one more time.
"...come to the source of the purge. Come alone."
Attached to the message file was a set of coordinates. They led to the ruins of the old alchemical research facility on the city's edge, the epicenter of the "purge" he and Laura had uncovered.
He looked at the artificial moon hanging in the fake sky of Crimson City. He thought of Laura's unwavering trust, his parents' fearful secrecy, the Chancellor's cold ambition, and the Hunter's cryptic words.
He was a pawn in everyone's game. But to become a player, he had to make a move no one would expect.
He would go. Not as a vampire noble, not as the Council's Daywalker, but as himself. He would walk into the serpent's den, not knowing if he was their kin or their prey, to find the truth that had been stolen from him at birth.
The Ghost was about to step out of the shadows, and his next move would determine whether he became Crimson City's savior, its most hated traitor, or the monster that finally broke the chain.