The cell was colder than necessary. A single bulb swung gently overhead, casting long, twitching shadows on the stone walls. Aaron sat on a metal chair, hands shackled to the table in front of him. Blood still crusted his nose and temple from where Lili had struck him.
The door creaked open. Fosin entered without a word, followed by two silent guards who lingered by the door like statues.
Aaron raised his head, his expression tight but composed. “Didn’t think I’d get the luxury of hospitality,” he said dryly.
Fosin didn’t smile. He walked to the table, slowly. When he finally sat down across from Aaron, he folded his hands neatly on the table, his eyes burning with quiet menace.
“You’re going to tell me why you were there,” Fosin said, voice low and cold. “And more importantly, what Deran wants with Death.”
Aaron blinked. Then smiled. “She’s the one who knocked me out. Maybe she’s the one with something to hide.”
Fosin didn’t move. “I know she didn’t kill you. I also know she could have. That tells me something.”
Aaron’s smirk faltered just slightly.
“Now,” Fosin continued, “tell me what Deran truly sent you for.”
Aaron leaned back in his chair as far as the shackles would allow. “He sent me to observe the chaos. That’s all.”
“You expect me to believe Deran sent his right hand into enemy territory just to observe?”
“You already know what this is about,” Aaron said. “That bullet. Your girl got shot with something that doesn’t belong on your streets. And that fire-wielding freak? He’s not one of ours. But Deran wants to know who brought that kind of weapon into play.”
Fosin’s jaw flexed.
“Don’t pretend it isn’t bigger than Death,” Aaron added. “Whatever that bullet was—it was designed to target people like her. Like me.”
Fosin leaned forward slightly. “Then tell me at least something: who made it, who’s distributing them. Anything.”
Aaron shook his head, the chains clinking softly with the movement. “We’re looking for the same thing, Fosin. But Deran doesn’t trust your side. Frankly, neither do I.”
“Trust doesn’t factor in,” Fosin replied, his voice cool and measured. Then a slow, unsettling smile tugged at his lips. “Everyone has a weakness. And we both know I’ll find yours. It’s just a matter of time.”
Aaron’s mask cracked, just slightly. “I didn’t attack your girl,” he said carefully. “I was after that fire freak. Even if I had a clear shot on her… I didn’t take it.”
Fosin’s brow lifted, just a little.
Aaron leaned forward, chains dragging. “Boss’s orders were clear. No harm to her yet.”
Fosin’s expression hardened. “Why?”
Aaron didn’t respond immediately. Then he exhaled. “That’s above me. But you can take it however you like. I was sent to contain—not provoke.”
There was a pause—dense, electric.
Fosin straightened again. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said so far. Let’s see if you can keep that up.”
He turned for the door, pausing just long enough to add over his shoulder, “Enjoy the hospitality. I’ll be back when I’m less patient.”
***
Lili lay on the bed, one arm folded under her head, the other resting across her aching stomach. The mansion felt heavier with every passing minute—a cage carved from luxury and surveillance, and worst of all, it belonged to Torin.
Should she try again—make another move toward Aaron? Or trust that he wasn’t stupid enough to say too much? She hated relying on anyone, especially him.
Finally, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, her movements slow and stiff from the strain of her wound. The pain was dull now, but persistent—like a warning she refused to listen to. Her decision was made.
She walked to the door, one hand brushing against the frame as she glanced back once, just to make sure nothing important of hers was left behind. Not that this place ever felt like it held anything worth keeping. They hadn’t insisted she stay. That was their mistake. She slipped into the hallway and made her way toward the exit, her boots silent against the polished floors, her coat trailing behind her like a shadow. She needed air. Space. And more than anything, she needed the comfort of her own home—where no eyes watched her every move.
Lili stepped out into the chilled night. The estate loomed behind her—opulent and cold, like a gilded cage she’d just slipped free from.
Her car waited in the shadowed driveway. She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door with more force than necessary. The silence inside was sharp, broken only by the soft hum of the engine when she started it.
Lili didn’t hesitate—didn’t even glance back at the mansion as she pulled out. The tires gripped the road with a satisfying growl, and she pushed the car harder than she needed to, just to feel something respond the way she wanted.
Her thoughts buzzed behind her eyes.
Aaron. Fosin. The bullet.
Too many pieces were moving, and too many hands were reaching behind her back. The only place she trusted now was her own home. There, at least, she could breathe without wondering if someone was watching.
The city blurred past the windows as she drove, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every so often, more out of habit than concern.
When she stepped into her house, locking the door behind her with a habitual flick of her wrist, the phone in her coat pocket buzzed. Lili pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Fosin. Of course it was him.
She sighed, exhaling slowly through her nose before accepting the call and pressing the phone to her ear. “Yes?” she answered with unmistakably tired voice.
“Why have you left?” Fosin’s voice came sharp and immediate.
“You never told me to stay,” she replied coolly, kicking off her boots and shrugging out of her coat.
There was a pause on the other end—a silence that stretched just a beat too long.
“You lied to me,” Fosin said finally, voice quiet but sharp-edged. “You told me he attacked you.”
Lili stiffened. So, Aaron had talked. Of course he did.
“Well,” she said after a beat, “it looked like he was going to. And I didn’t wait around to ask questions. Would you have preferred I hesitated?”
Another pause.
“This isn’t a conversation for the phone,” Fosin said at last, his voice dropping colder. “Expect to be at the mansion. Early morning. Don’t be late.”
The line clicked dead before she could respond.
Lili stared at the screen for a moment, then let the phone fall onto the table with a soft clatter. She needed to decide her next move—carefully…
***
When Lili finally drifted into sleep, it wasn’t the kind of rest her body craved. Her mind didn’t fall into usual dreams. There were no fragmented memories or surreal images. Just… blackness. A heavy, pulsing void that stretched endlessly around her. But she wasn’t alone in it.
There was something there—something she could feel.
“I’m here to help you.” The voice slithered into her thoughts, whispering from every direction. “We are one, Lili. Don’t fight me. Embrace me. We will achieve great things together.”
“Am I that fucked up that I’m hearing voices in my sleep now?” Lili thought.
“No,” the voice replied, as though it had been waiting. “You’ve evolved. You’re becoming what you were always meant to be. You just need to let me in.”
The darkness thickened. A weight settled over her chest. Then—
She snapped upright in bed, heart hammering. She wasn’t alone.
Glowing red eyes opened just inches from her own, and an icy hand gripped her wounded shoulder, pressing down with unnatural strength.
“Let me in,” the voice echoed again—this time no longer in her mind, but spoken aloud.
And Lili realized with a chill that she wasn’t dreaming anymore.
Lili summoned her blade. It sprang to life from the shadows, soaring across the room. She screamed as it hurled toward the figure in front of her. But in the blink of an eye, it vanished—like smoke dispersing in wind. Her blade embedded itself into the wall with a violent crack, sending plaster dust raining down.
Panting, Lili stared at the empty space. Her chest heaved. No one was there. No glowing eyes. No voice.
She swung her legs off the bed too fast. A surge of pain flared through her injured shoulder, nearly flooring her. She bit back a cry and slid to the ground, her hand trembling as she pressed against the wound.
Gasping, she crawled toward the wall. She found the light switch, flicked it on with a shaky hand. Light filled the empty room. But the echo of that voice still lingered inside her head—closer now. Hungrier. And the worst part was… a piece of her hadn’t wanted it to leave…
***
In the morning, Lili drove back to the mansion, the rising sun casting pale light across the windshield. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary, knuckles pale, jaw tense with the weight of the night behind her.
When she parked in front of the mansion, she didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned slightly toward the rearview mirror and examined her reflection.
Her eyes looked sunken beneath carefully applied makeup, her skin a touch too pale, and the bruise-like shadows under her eyes betraying the restless night. She dabbed on more powder, adjusted the red smear of lipstick, and tilted her head. It almost worked. Almost. But not enough.
With a quiet breath, she reached into the passenger seat, lifted the full-face mask she always used in public and slipped it on. The transformation was immediate. Whatever weakness the mirror had revealed was gone. Only then did she open the door and step out.
Lili walked toward the meeting room where Fosin and Torin waited.
Each step echoed through the hall with calm, calculated weight. The heels of her boots struck the floor in steady rhythm, her long black coat sweeping behind her like a shadow given form.
As she passed by the mansion guards, they instinctively straightened. Some looked away quickly, others met her gaze only to flinch and look down. A whisper of her presence was enough to change the tone of any conversation, to silence laughter, to still movement. She didn’t glance at any of them. Their fear was expected and most likely—welcome. She was exactly who the underworld believed she was—and today, she would remind even Fosin and Torin why.
She pushed the double doors open without knocking. Inside, the room fell silent. Fosin was seated at the long table, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Torin stood with his back turned, facing the tall windows. The air felt cold despite the sunlight pouring in.
Lili entered without hesitation, the mask hiding every trace of her exhaustion.
Torin finally spoke without turning. “You’re on time.”
Fosin’s gaze remained on her. “Take a seat.”
She didn’t. “You wanted me here. I assumed it was urgent.”
Fosin’s jaw ticked. “We examined the bullet that hit you more closer. It wasn’t just custom-made—it responded only to you. It didn’t react to other blood samples of Gifted ones.”
Lili narrowed her eyes behind the mask. “How do you know that? It’s not like we have a stash of Gifted blood just lying around.”
Fosin blinked—just once—but it was enough to tell her he hadn’t expected the question.
“Are you forgetting Deran’s right hand? The one you captured?” he asked coolly.
“Yeah. But you said ‘Gifted ones.’ Plural.” Her voice sharpened just a bit. “So either you’re lying—or you’ve been testing more than I know about.”
A heavy pause settled between them. Fosin didn’t respond. Neither did Torin. But the glance they exchanged said enough.
Finally, it was Torin who spoke. “We found a way to get Goran’s blood.”
Lili stilled.
Torin’s eyes locked with hers, cold and warning. “Don’t ask how. Just understand that it’s done.”
A pulse of heat rose in her chest—anger, maybe. Or the creeping edge of fear. She wanted to press, to rip apart the silence wrapped around their half-truths. But she didn’t yet.
Lili let out a slow, measured breath. “Very well,” she said at last.
Fosin’s shoulders eased slightly. The tension in his face softened just enough to suggest he thought that was the end of it. It wasn’t.
“Goran seems… interested in the basement,” Lili said evenly, letting her voice carry just enough weight to make it believable. “Yesterday, he asked me about authorization.”
That got both men’s attention.
Torin straightened.
Fosin’s expression darkened, sharp eyes narrowing. “Authorization for what exactly?”
Lili shrugged faintly. “Didn’t say. Just asked if I could get him in. Thought it was strange. But now, with everything else… it lines up, doesn’t it?”
She paused, just long enough to let the idea settle in their heads.
“Whoever he’s working for—they seem interested in our prisoner. Or maybe even both of them.”
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Fosin’s eyes flicked to Torin, who gave a single, small nod.
“Keep watching him,” Torin said. “And don’t mention this to anyone. If Goran makes a move toward that basement, I want to know about it the second it happens.”
Lili gave a slight incline of her head. “Understood.”
She turned to leave, mask hiding the tight smirk that tugged at her lips.
***
Goran approached just as Lili was surveying the outer defenses of the mansion, her gaze tracking the rotation patterns of the guards.
“Hey, partner,” he said with a crooked smile.
She didn’t fully turn to him, just let her eyes flick in his direction under the shadow of her mask.
“You know,” she began quietly, voice just above a whisper, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. That you could take care of Aaron for me.”
Goran’s smile faltered for a moment—just a flicker. He hadn’t expected her to revisit the offer, not this quickly. Not so directly.
“I meant it,” he said, recovering. “You give the word, and he’s gone.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze returning to the perimeter.
“Do it tonight,” Lili said, her voice low and final. “Clean. Quiet. No loose ends.”
Goran’s posture straightened slightly, his casual air replaced by something more focused.
“If you pull this off,” she added, turning slightly toward him now, “you won’t have to worry about Torin’s petty assignments anymore. I’ll make sure you start earning more… and doing less.”
That got his attention. Ambition gleamed faintly in his eyes.
“Understood,” he said with a grin, but his tone was serious now.
“Don’t mess it up,” Lili finished, her voice soft but edged. “Because if you do… I’ll make you regret even offering.”
And then she turned, walking away without waiting for his answer. She didn’t need to hear it. Goran was too eager to rise—exactly the kind of man willing to get his hands dirty. And she’d just handed him the shovel…
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