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Zenith's POV
Here I am, minding my own business, when suddenly, a pair of strong arms forcefully pull me into an almost suffocating embrace, from behind. I did not see him. I felt him, like a shadow wrapping around my spine before the arms ever touched me. From his strong physique to the restless, masculine energy radiating off him… I know that it's a man. I try to squirm out of his arms but it's a futile attempt. Then in a guttural voice he utters, "Mate!" At the same time, his head is buried on the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. My first instinct is to scream. But weirdly, there’s no fear. My heartbeat spikes, yes, but it’s more from shock than panic. Who the hell is this guy? I stop struggling and wait for him to release me. He does, after what feels like forever. Then he turns me around and lo and behold! The guy is a stunner. I do not even know how to start describing him. He is donning blue jeans, black boots, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. His black hair is slightly tousled by the wind but still gives him a rugged but charming look. He has captivating blue eyes that feel like a vortex drawing me in. Heck, just looking into those eyes, I feel like I'm being drawn into the depth of a deep blue see. I shake my head slightly, mentally chiding myself for being shameless. How can I be drawn to a creep who has just molested me? Nonetheless, my eyes seem to have a mind of their own. I tried to focus, really, I did, but my brain short-circuited somewhere between that jawline and those maddeningly soft-looking lips. Ugh. Focus, Zen! Damnit! I should be questioning him, not just foolishly drooling! But I guess my head and my eyes are no longer in sync. Instead of stopping, my eyes slide down to his muscular chest, hands, six pack abs, his slim waist and damn! His thighs... Ugh! Stop it, Zen! Finally, my eyes stop but what's the use? They are done already! So, to cover my embarrassment, I clear my throat. "Ahem, sir? Don't you think that you crossed the line and you should be apologizing to me? You’re not one of those guys who think good looks excuse violating boundaries... are you?” The creepy hunk does not respond but just stares at me quietly. I rack my brain thinking of how I can get out of this situation. Since he grabbed me, he only uttered one word. For a split second, I wondered if he might have a medical condition. But no, he is different. I have volunteered with kids on the spectrum before. They were sensitive, thoughtful, and expressive in their own ways. This guy? He’s something else entirely. A mystery wrapped in muscle and silence. Still, if he needs kindness, I will offer it. "Hey, buddy. You called me mate, right? You want me to be your friend? No problem. I agree. I am new here anyway and could use a friend. My name is Zenith Valencia. But as my newly found friend, you can call me Zen. Handshake?" I extend my hand but then he quirks his brow and instead pulls me in for a hug. "Mate." This time, it is spoken in a gentle manner. Not as forceful as the first time. I do not need to be a seer to note that this guy has problems articulating himself. I am not a philanthropist but I am not wicked, either. I have had my fair share of the atrocities of life in my eighteen years. Irrespective of how good looking this guy is, he is also having his problems. If he needs a friend so badly, then I will be his friend or his mate, as he prefers. I gently pat his back and he breaks the hug. However, he quietly scrutinizes me and gently place his hands on my temples. I do not squirm but allow him to do as he pleases. I'm told that nonverbal people respond to gentleness. So, I am going to help this guy. The fact that he is alone at night, like me, he must have suffered some grievances. "Alejandro." He suddenly speaks but gently, this time. It takes me a while to figure it out. "Alejandro? Oh, dear! That's your name, right?" I look at him and he nods slowly. I smile and see his eyes twinkle. "Nice to meet you Alejandro. It's getting late and I should be heading home. I just came to the observatory to draw. I wanted to capture the beautiful sunset. Would you want to see my painting?" He nods slowly but his eyes have not left my face. It should creep me out but I feel an odd sense of safety with this guy. I show him my painting and he holds the canvas close to his heart. There is a tenderness in his eyes that is a bit unsettling but I know that he will not harm me. I pack up my paint brushes and stuff everything into my duffel bag. "Done! I need to get home and whip up a quick meal. I'm starving. Do you know your way home, Jandro? Or maybe, can I call someone to come pick you up?" When I shortened his name, I could see his eyes shinning but when I mentioned calling someone to come pick him up, the light in his eyes dimmed. My bungalow is just a mile away. He does not seem like he belongs anywhere. There is something in the way he clings to me, like a child trapped in a grown man's body. I do not sense danger, only loneliness. And if I can offer a little warmth tonight, why should I not? I look up at the sky and see the clouds gathering. There might be a storm tonight and no matter what, I cannot leave him alone outside. Remembering the weather report earlier on, there was going to be a torrential downpour. I sigh deeply before inviting him to go home with me. "Would you like to go home with me? I am almost always alone. I mean… I guess you could come over? Just for tonight. It’s not like I have anyone else around, and… well, I’d feel bad leaving you out here.” The way he nods his head enthusiastically is both amusing and heartbreaking. Life can truly be cruel. Such a fine young man with such a difficulty. Without another word, he snatches my duffel bag and effortlessly slings it onto his shoulder. Then he takes my hand as if it is the most natural thing to do. I almost pull my hand away then stop. There was a strange calmness about him, like he was not from here, not from this time. Whatever he was, he did not feel dangerous. Just… different. I feel no need for me to be mean to him. I lead him back to my place, like a big sister.AlejandroSomething in the world had shifted. Neither loudly nor violently but precisely. I felt it before I understood it. The way a wolf senses a change in wind long before the storm arrives.Inferno did not stir at first. That alone was enough to unsettle me because silence, from something that ancient…Is never empty. It is deliberate.I stood at the edge of the lake just before dawn. The Haven behind me breathed in slow, steady rhythm. Twenty-nine lives, interwoven, unaware that something far older than their histories had just been… engaged.Engaged, not attacked or threatened but acknowledged. And somewhere deep beneath that realization…Something else surfaced. A memory. Not mine but Inferno's.It came without warning. Sort of a fracture of sensation.A flash of something that did not belong to this world. I inhaled sharply as it hit. Stone that was not stone, fire that did not burn and pace that did not behave.And then...A voice that was not heard but remembered. “You return.”
ZenithSleep had stopped being quiet. It used to be simple. A closing of the eyes, drifting and a restful night. Now…Sleep felt like stepping through a door that did not belong to me.That night, I knew it the moment it began. It was neither a fall nor a fade. It was a shift. One breath I was in the Haven, warm beneath familiar walls, grounded in the steady presence of Alejandro beside me.The next…I was somewhere else, again. However, this time, it wasn’t distant. It was waiting. The space unfolded around me slowly, like a structure revealing itself piece by piece. Not built but arranged.Endless lines stretched outward in every direction, intersecting, diverging and folding into one another with impossible precision. It was not chaos. Everything had a purpose. Everything had a position. And somehow…I understood that I was standing inside something that was not meant to be seen.A system. No. The blueprint of one. My breath came slower and heavier, here Not because I was afraid, beca
Magister Elowen KaineOrder is not cruelty. It only appears that way to those who resist it. I stood alone in the observation chamber. Not because I required solitude, but because clarity demanded it.The projection before me shimmered with controlled precision, territories mapped not by land, but by influence, pressure, compliance. Most regions remained stable, predictable and governed.Then there was the anomaly. The Haven of Shadows. It did not behave correctly. It did not fragment under pressure. It did not respond with escalation. Heck, that unknown pack of a bunch of misfits, did not even attempt concealment. It adapted instead, and I did not like that.A system that adapts without external guidance is not a system. It is a threat. “Run the sequence again.” The command was quiet but immediate. The projection shifted, replaying the tremor.Australia. Expansion. Resonance. And then, something subtle. Something most would have missed. A delay. Not in the event but in the response
Cassiel ThornThere are truths the world buries. Not out of malice and not even out of fear. But because remembering them would unravel everything built afterward.I did not belong in the central chamber. Not tonight. While the others debated, measured, and positioned themselves around the anomaly that had begun to ripple through the world…I walked away.Not out of defiance but out of necessity. Because I had heard enough. Another realm. Temporal distortion. An heir that does not follow linear growth and The Architecture.Most of them heard danger. Some heard opportunity. I heard something else. A pattern. The Archive lay beneath the Watchers’ stronghold, far below the polished halls and controlled discussions.It was older than the Council itself. Older than the current system of territories. Older than most of the beings who now believed they governed the supernatural world.It did not welcome visitors. It remembered them. The door did not open when I approached. Not at first. It n
AlejandroSome truths don’t arrive like thunder. They settle quietly and deliberately. Like something ancient taking its seat at the table… and refusing to leave.The Haven felt different. Not that it had become louder or heavier. It was just… aware. I stood in the war room, though we had never officially called it that.A circular space beneath the main level, carved into stone and reinforced with layers of warding, some modern, some ancient, some that did not belong to any known system. The kind of place where decisions became consequences.They were all there. Not everyone in the Haven. Not the twenty-nine. Only the ones who needed to understand. Koa stood to my right, arms folded, posture relaxed but ready. Lucien leaned against the far wall, half-shadow, half-observer.Eamon stood still, too still, as if time itself had paused around him. And then…The five ancients. Valerius Drakos stood with quiet authority, crimson eyes reflecting centuries of war and patience.Beside him, Cass
Aurelian Voss(The Architect)Silence has never been absence. It has always been discipline. The chamber in Geneva did not echo, not because of its architecture, but because those within it understood restraint. Power did not need noise. It required control.I stood at the center of the circular hall, hands loosely clasped behind my back, eyes fixed on the projection suspended in the air before me. It shimmered faintly. Not because it was magical or technological. It was something… older. A map. But not of land, of influence.Lines of faint energy stretched across it, territories, alliances, bloodlines, invisible structures that most beings could not perceive. To them, the world was fragmented. To me…It had always been a system. And systems could be understood.A flicker pulsed along one of the outer lines, subtle and irregular. I watched it without reacting. Behind me, the chamber doors opened. Measured footsteps followed. Though controlled, they were not calm.“Say it.” My voice wa







