Rain slicked the streets of the city, turning neon signs into bleeding streaks of colour. Prince kept his hood up as he left the repair shop, eyes scanning the crowd. Two years had passed since the night of the escape, yet the memory clung to him like smoke. They had been children, dragged into a secret facility, experimented on, remade. Now they were fugitives. He could still smell the antiseptic corridors of the lab sometimes, hear the echo of slammed doors and the cries of other test subjects in his dreams.

He adjusted the strap of his backpack and slipped into an alley. Down here the noise of traffic faded, but the noise of thoughts never did. Minds were open books to him now. He brushed against them as he moved, checking for danger: a shopkeeper thinking about closing, a driver cursing at the rain, a pickpocket planning his next mark. Nothing unusual. Until he felt it. The signal cut through the background like a blade, sharp and cold, raising goosebumps on his skin.

A whisper slid across his consciousness — not a human thought but a trained signature he’d learned to recognise: Revenant. Cold. Precise. Hunting. They had found him. His pulse thudded in his ears. If Revenant’s scouts were this close, the hunters would not be far behind.

Prince quickened his pace. The ghosts that haunted the city walls stirred, sensing his panic. One drifted close, a girl not older than twelve, translucent and flickering. Her lips moved but no sound came. He had no time to listen. He wanted to, though. The dead often knew more than the living, and her eyes were full of warning.

Across town, Lammy Ammy stood on a crate in the drizzle, performing his street routine. Coins clinked into his hat as sparks of harmless magic danced from his paw to amuse the crowd. The small Lammy’s fur was damp, his cloak frayed, but his eyes were alert. He felt the disturbance too — a ripple through the faint magical threads that bound him to Prince. “Not again,” he muttered, packing up his staff and vanishing into an alley. For a heartbeat his fur bristled, his magic rising instinctively like static before a storm.

In the underground fight pits, Jed’s gloves were torn and his knuckles raw. He fought human, always human, keeping his other side secret. But when his next opponent stepped into the ring with glowing eyes and an inhuman smile, Jed’s heart sank. A Revenant Hunter. Silver light pulsed through the veins of his forearms. He barely won, bolting before anyone could stop him. Blood still dripped from a cut at his brow, and he tasted iron as he ran up the stairwell into the rain.

By nightfall all three of them were moving through the city toward the same hidden meeting place, each sensing the others’ alarm. For two years they had hidden in plain sight. Tonight that life ended. The hunt had begun, and none of them were ready. And somewhere in the city, unseen eyes watched and waited.

Prince’s boots echoed against the stone floor as he descended into the underground station. Months of running, hiding, and surviving had led him here, yet the shadows felt alive, pressing in from all sides. Lammy Ammy and Jed were already waiting, faces drawn tight with tension and secrets they didn’t bother to hide.

The air smelled of damp concrete and rust, and flickering lights painted the walls with strange, dancing shapes. Every drop of water that fell from the ceiling sounded like a countdown. Lammy’s voice cut through the silence, trembling slightly but sharp. “You feel that? Something isn’t right. I nearly ran straight into one of them during my show… Revenants are hunting closer than ever.”

Jed’s jaw tightened, hands clenching into fists. “And I’ve got the scars to prove it. There’s a new kind of hunter out there—stronger, smarter. They’re tracking us relentlessly. We can’t underestimate them.”

Prince scanned the shadows carefully. He knew the feeling—he’d felt it many times before: a presence that was not entirely human, not entirely ghost. Then he noticed it—a faint figure hovering in the corner, almost invisible in the dim light. A girl, or something like one, with hollow eyes and a strange sigil etched across her hand, whispered above the sound of dripping water: “They’re building something… it’s calling us…”

Prince took a cautious step forward, but before he could react, the scrape of boots echoed through the tunnels. Shadows shifted, longer and darker than they had a moment ago. The ambush had arrived.

Revenant operatives poured into the station from every angle. Prince acted first, bending their perception with mind tricks, disorienting them just enough to gain a small advantage. Lammy hurled bolts of magic, flames and shards of light cutting through the gloom, scorching walls and leaving eerie trails in the air. Jed held his ground as long as he could, his human form straining under the assault, then finally gave in to transformation, muscles expanding, strength multiplying, breaking through the line of attackers with raw ferocity. The battle was chaotic, loud, and fast—flashes of light, sparks, and the sounds of impact echoing through the underground tunnels.

Breathless and bruised, the trio fled deeper into the labyrinthine tunnels, hearts pounding, bodies battered. Lammy’s magic flickered weakly with exhaustion; Jed’s wound throbbed with each step, slowing him down. Prince sensed a danger even greater than the operatives they had just escaped. Something was waiting further ahead, in the deeper shadows.

Finally, they skidded to a stop in a hidden alcove, hidden from immediate view, catching their breath. Lammy’s eyes were sharp, resolute. “We can’t stay here,” he whispered urgently. “But… I know someone who can keep us safe.” he glanced at Prince and Jed. “My old classmate, Praise… her place is secure, private. No one would think to look for us there.”

Prince’s mind raced. A mansion in the city’s depths, a friend of Lammy’s, a temporary sanctuary from the danger closing in. It sounded almost too good to be true—but it was their only choice.

With no other options, they pressed on, deeper into the darkness, the promise of refuge guiding them toward an uncertain tomorrow. Shadows twisted around them, whispering threats, but for the first time in months, there was a faint glimmer of hope

The city above roared with rain and traffic, but inside Praise’s mansion, silence reigned. Massive chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, catching light from ornate windows and throwing patterns across polished floors. Prince, Lammy, and Jed stepped cautiously into the grand foyer, the weight of the tunnels behind them replaced by awe—and a lingering unease.

Praise appeared from a doorway above, descending the marble stairs with effortless grace. Her dark eyes scanned them carefully, lingering on Lammy with recognition. The first time Prince laid eyes on her, he felt an unexpected flutter in his chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the mansion’s lavish decor. She’s… remarkable, he thought, heart skipping a beat. Calm, confident, and impossibly graceful, she seemed untouchable—yet oddly familiar.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Praise said, voice calm but firm. “And I certainly didn’t expect to be hosting… fugitives.”

Lammy swallowed. “It wasn’t safe anywhere else. Please… we need a place to regroup.”

Praise studied them for a long moment, then nodded. “Very well. You’ll stay. But understand this—this house is no ordinary shelter. There are rules. And secrets.”

Prince couldn’t help but notice the mansion’s size, the quiet luxury, and the fact that it was practically empty. But his attention kept drifting back to Praise. The way she moved, the sharpness in her gaze, the quiet authority in her tone—it all left him momentarily distracted.

“Your parents?” he asked quietly, trying to focus.

“They’re gone,” Praise replied, her tone unreadable. “Long gone. I manage this place alone now.” She gestured toward the library, where rows of books and odd artifacts lined the walls. “Here, you can rest, heal, and plan. But keep your eyes open. Danger doesn’t stop at my gate.”

The team spread out. Lammy carefully examined the library, brushing his fingers across spellbooks and journals. Jed leaned against a wall, wincing as he tended to his wounds. Prince walked to a window, peering at the sprawling gardens below, yet even there his thoughts kept returning to Praise—how her presence seemed to command the room without effort. He felt both admiration and something unfamiliar stirring inside him.

Despite the opulence, an air of tension clung to the mansion. Praise moved through the halls with precision, as if she knew every corner and secret. “I’ve watched over this city for years,” she said finally. “Not because I’m rich, or because it’s safe… but because someone has to. The Revenants are growing bolder, and soon, you’ll see just how dangerous they’ve become.”

Prince felt a chill. The ghost girl’s warning from the tunnels echoed in his mind: “They’re building something… it’s calling us…”

Lammy approached Praise. “Can we trust you?”

Praise’s gaze hardened. “I’m not your enemy. But I am no fool. If you slip up here, the Revenants will find you—and me. So yes… you can trust me. For now.”

The night deepened, and shadows gathered in corners where lamplight didn’t reach. In the mansion’s quiet, the team tended to their wounds, sharing stories of survival and loss. Prince found himself sitting slightly closer to Praise than necessary, stealing glances when she wasn’t looking. Each word she spoke, each movement she made, pulled at something inside him he hadn’t expected.

As the team settled into the library, Lammy and Jed exchanged quiet updates on wounds and supplies. Prince lingered near the window, pretending to study the sprawling gardens outside, though his attention kept drifting back to Praise.

Praise approached, carrying a tray of water and bandages. “You’ve been staring out that window for a while,” she said lightly, arching an eyebrow. “Watching the city, or… someone in it?”

Prince froze, the tray almost tipping in his hands. “Uh… just… thinking,” he stammered, cheeks heating. He looked away, focusing on a distant tree, though he knew she could tell he was lying.

Praise smirked, setting the tray down. “Hmm. Thinking, huh? I hope your thoughts are useful. The Revenants won’t wait while you daydream.”

Prince tried to hide a sheepish grin. “Yes… I mean, no. I mean—I’m ready. Always ready.”

Praise laughed softly, the sound light but confident. “We’ll see, Prince. Actions speak louder than words.” She walked away, leaving him staring after her, feeling both frustrated and intrigued.

Lammy, noticing the exchange, nudged him quietly. “You like her, don’t you?”

Prince blinked, startled, and muttered, “I… maybe…” He refused to look back at Praise, though a small, guilty smile tugged at his lips.

Even in a mansion filled with secrets and shadows, Prince realized that sometimes the most unexpected dangers—or delights—were the ones that touched your heart.

The mansion was a temporary sanctuary, yet the weight of the outside world pressed on their minds. Beyond these walls, dangers were growing, planning, building, calling. And somewhere within the quiet and opulence of Praise’s home, Prince realized he had found something unexpected—a spark of something that might make the coming storm feel a little less lonely.

For now, the mansion was safe. But the shadows outside promised that safety would not last.