The silence in the church wasn’t peaceful.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8zE64s5RY7
It was heavy—like breath held too long, like something was waiting to break.
Dante leaned against the cold stone wall near a shattered window, eyes fixed on the outside. The world beyond was still burning in slow motion. Ash floated lazily through the air, catching in the cracked frame. Somewhere out there, demons lurked—silent, for now, but never gone.
His fingers twitched.
That heat again.
It wasn’t visible, not yet. But he could feel it beneath his skin, like fire caught in his bloodstream. A dangerous pulse. Not his own.
He clenched his jaw and exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing the rhythm of his breath to steady.
Not now.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWxjz63Lx1O
Not here.
Behind him, the others spoke in low voices, huddled around the table at the center of the hall. The stone floor echoed every movement. Every scrape of a boot. Every word that didn’t quite reach him.
“You’re quiet,” came Mikael’s voice, breaking the hush.
Dante didn’t turn around.
“Thinking,” he said simply.
“Dangerous habit,” Caius muttered. “Thinking won’t stop what’s coming.”
“Neither will your sarcasm,” Mikael said without looking at him.
Caius rolled his eyes and stood, arms crossed over his chest. “We’re wasting time. The longer we sit here, the more ground we lose. This church won’t hold forever.”
“We need backup,” Mikael replied. “You know that.”
Caius scoffed. “From who? Ghosts?”
“The Fallen Hunters.”
Silence.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQborigipLL
Not the same kind as before.
Dante turned his head slightly, finally listening.
Caius let out a bitter laugh. “You want us to find them? You mean the washed-up legends who vanished after the war? Half of them are probably dead. The rest... they chose to walk away. We’re not their problem.”
“They were the best for a reason,” Mikael said, voice calm but firm. “And we’re outnumbered. Outmatched. We need people who’ve seen what we haven’t. Fought what we haven’t. People who’ve survived.”
“They barely survived,” Caius shot back. “And the stories don’t exactly paint them as team players.”
“Because you believe rumors,” Mikael snapped. “I knew one of them. Lucas. He wasn’t a coward. And he wasn’t cruel.”
Dante flinched.
Lucas.
He didn’t know why that name hit him. But it did. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it echoed—like something important he wasn’t allowed to remember.
“Lucas is dead,” Caius said coldly. “Just like their fight. And their time.”
“Maybe,” Mikael said. “But there’s one who’s still alive. Isaac.”
Caius narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”
“I have a source,” Mikael said, refusing to elaborate. “He’s hiding among civilians. Laying low. I think I can track him.”
“And then what?” Caius stepped forward. “You think he’s going to shake our hands and jump back into the war for a bunch of kids?”
Mikael met his stare without flinching. “I think he’ll listen if we give him a reason.”
Caius turned away, pacing toward the shadows. “This is a mistake.”
“We don’t have the luxury of certainty anymore,” Mikael said. “Our numbers are shrinking. The demons are multiplying. They’re not just hunting—they’re organizing. You saw what happened out there.”
Caius didn’t answer.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ66OuMoB09C
Dante did.
“They’re evolving.”
The words came before he could stop them.
Mikael turned to him. “What?”
“The demons,” Dante said, his voice low, measured. “They’re moving differently. Coordinated. Like they’re not acting on instinct anymore... but orders.”
The others were quiet. Even Caius stopped pacing.
“And if they’re following orders,” Dante continued, “someone—or something—is giving them.”
Mikael nodded slowly. “That’s why we need Isaac.”
Dante pushed away from the wall. His hands had stopped twitching. For now.
“I’m not saying it’s a good idea,” he said. “But it might be the only one we have.”
Caius looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “You of all people want to trust some ghost from the last war?”
“I don’t trust anyone,” Dante replied. “But I trust what I saw.”
He didn’t say it, but the image of the Alpha’s glowing eyes still burned in the back of his vision. That unspoken intelligence. That deliberate power. These weren’t mindless beasts anymore.
Something had changed.
Something had awakened.
“We vote,” Mikael said. “That’s fair.”
Caius gritted his teeth. “You already made up your mind.”
“Maybe,” Mikael admitted. “But I’m not forcing anyone.”
They all looked at each other.
One by one, they gave their answers.
Mikael: yes.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB6IiLAnH9r
Caius: no.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ23T90W52yi
Dante hesitated—then said, “Do what you want. I’ll come either way.”
“That’s not a vote,” Caius said.
“It’s not a democracy either,” Dante replied, walking away.
An hour later, they were packing supplies. Loading weapons. Filling bags with anything that might be useful if things went wrong.
Dante sat at the edge of a stone bench, rolling a blade between his fingers. Not his demon daggers. Just a normal steel one. Cold. Simple. Easy to control.
He liked it better.
“You’re quiet again,” Mikael said, approaching.
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not when you’re pissed.”
Dante gave him a sideways glance. “Guess I’m evolving too.”
Mikael smiled faintly, then let it fade. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Dante looked down at the blade in his hand. The reflection was warped by the curve of the metal, but he still saw it—the flicker of gold in his eyes that didn’t belong to him.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not always.”
Mikael didn’t push.
Night fell like a weight.
The church was darker now, the air colder. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled. Or maybe demons. It was getting harder to tell the difference.
Caius sat near the main door, sharpening his arrows. His expression was unreadable.
Dante found himself pacing, aimless. Restless.
Why does his name bother me? Lucas. Lucas. Lucas.
He sat down on a crate and stared at his hands. Flexed them. Closed them into fists.
The glow hadn’t come back. Yet.
But he felt it. Beneath the surface. Waiting.
He remembered the moment in the fight—when the Alpha had struck, and his body had moved on its own. Not instinct. Something deeper. Something darker. His veins had burned like molten fire. His vision had gone red. And for a second... just a second...
He didn’t recognize himself.
If Caius or Mikael had been a step closer—he wasn’t sure he would’ve stopped.
What if I lose it next time?26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7llEN2WyiW
What if I become what I’m supposed to fight?
He gritted his teeth and forced the thoughts down.
They gathered one last time before leaving.
Mikael unfolded a crude map, marked with runes and hand-scratched notes. “Isaac was last seen near the southern edge of the city. He blends in. Lives quiet. We’ll move slow. In and out. No confrontation unless it’s necessary.”
Caius nodded curtly. “And if he doesn’t want to talk?”
“We convince him.”
Dante didn’t say anything. But something in his gut twisted.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like a part of him already knew who Isaac was. Or maybe what he would bring.
They left just before dawn.
The wind howled behind them, pushing against their backs.
And somewhere far ahead, in a world broken by demons and betrayal, waited a man who might change everything...
Or destroy what little they had left.
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