Chapter 1 – The Lobby of Shadows ll

As the pressure in the terminal continued to drop, the physical world seemed to warp. The sound of the wind wasn't just a roar; it was a rhythmic thumping that synced with the frantic beat of Willa’s heart. Every time the red numbers on the digital display flickered, a sharp, electric hum vibrated through the metal vending machine against her spine.

Jaxson’s weight was a crushing anchor. He was so close she could see the silver flecks in his eyes—eyes that had once looked down at her from a mahogany desk while he signed the papers that evicted her family from their estate. Back then, he had been a titan of industry, cold and untouchable. Now, he was a man fighting for breath, his expensive silk tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tension.

"You're shaking, Willa," he murmured, his voice cutting through the vacuum. He wasn't mocking her; it was an observation, a calculation. He adjusted his grip, his fingers splaying across her ribs, feeling the frantic cage of her lungs. "The game doesn't just want us to touch. It wants us to react. If you keep your walls up, the synchronicity drops. If it hits zero, this station becomes our tomb."

Willa’s vision blurred. The air was so thin now that spots danced before her eyes. "Why... why would it... Choose you?" she gasped.

"Maybe because we have unfinished business," Jaxson replied, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Or maybe because the universe knows that nothing burns hotter than a bridge you've already set on fire."

He pulled the respirator mask back, taking another deep, greedy pull of oxygen, but he didn't put it to his own face. He held it between them, a literal lifeline.

"Take it," he commanded.

Willa reached for it, but her hands were numb, fumbling. Jaxson growled low in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated frustration. He didn't wait for her to coordinate. He grabbed her chin, tilting her head back at a sharp angle that exposed the long, elegant line of her throat.

When he pressed the mask to her face this time, he didn't just share the air. He leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. The intimacy was suffocating differently. She could feel the stubble on his chin rasping against her soft skin. She could smell the scent of him—expensive cologne mixed with the metallic tang of fear and the ozone of the game.

[Synchronicity: 65%. Warning: Emotional Resonance required for Level 1 Access.]

"Think about it, Willa," Jaxson whispered, his breath puffing into the mask they shared. "Think about that night in the rain five years ago. Think about how much you wanted to scream at me. Use that. Give the game something real."

Willa closed her eyes, and suddenly, she wasn't in a ghostly bus station. She was back in her father's study. She remembered the way Jaxson had looked at her—like she was a beautiful piece of furniture he had just inherited. She remembered the shame of begging him for more time, and the way he had stepped close, just like this, only to whisper that 'business has no room for sentiment.'

The anger flared in her chest, hot and bright. It was better than the cold vacuum. It was a fire that gave her strength. Her hands, previously limp, flew up and gripped his wrists. She didn't just take the air; she fought him for it, her body arching into his as the rage fueled her.

[Synchronicity: 75%... 80%... 92%!]

The "Gems" icon on the screen began to spin wildly, a golden light reflecting off the cracked glass around them.

"There she is," Jaxson breathed, a dark triumph in his tone. "There’s the girl who wanted to burn my world down."

His hand shifted from her waist, sliding slowly, deliberately up her spine, his palm hot even through the fabric of her dress. The touch sent a shiver through her that wasn't about the cold. It was a confusing, electric spark of desire that she tried to stifle, but the game caught it. The sensors didn't care if the emotion was love or hate; they only cared about the intensity.

The digital display let out a melodic chime.

[Trial 1 Status: SUCCESS. Synchronicity Peak: 95%.]

[Bonus Reward: 'Enemies to Lovers' Multiplier Active.]

The vacuum vanished. A rush of stale, cold air flooded back into the terminal, and Willa slumped against the vending machine, gasping. Jaxson stepped back, but only an inch. He was looking at her differently now—not as a victim, and not as a ghost. He was looking at her like a predator who had just realized his prey had claws.

Willa wiped her mouth, her heart still thundering. "That won't happen again," she snapped, her voice trembling but determined. "I’m not that girl anymore, Jaxson. I’ve lived through enough of your 'business' to know how to play a game."

She looked down at her hands. They weren't shaking anymore. In the reflection of the bus windows, she saw herself. The glasses were gone, lost in the accident. Her hair was a wild, crimson halo. She looked dangerous. She looked like a survivor.

"We’ll see," Jaxson said, his voice a smooth, dangerous velvet. He gestured toward the open bus doors, where a thick, red fog was beginning to roll out from the interior. "The bus is leaving, Willa. And in Dracula’s Castle, the trials won't be as 'gentle' as a kiss in a bus station."

He turned and walked toward the darkness, his silhouette imposing and powerful. Willa took a final look at the terminal—at the life she was leaving behind. Ethan, her sister, the betrayal, the weakness. She left it all on that dusty floor.

She stepped onto the bus. The stairs groaned under her weight. As she found a seat in the back, Jaxson sat directly across the aisle, his long legs taking up the space between them.

The engine roared to life, sounding more like a beast than a machine. The bus began to move, not down a road, but through a shimmering tear in reality.

[Welcome to Level 1: The Sanguine Manor. Rule: The Blood Moon never sets until the debt is paid.]

Willa leaned her head against the cold window, watching as the stars outside turned into streaks of blood-red light. She was going to do this. She was going to survive. And she was going to make sure that by the time this game was over, Jaxson Vane was the one begging for air.