Mana lights cast the streets in sickly colors at night. Every hue, from overripe pink to nauseating green, even gaudy gold and silver, pulsed from dive bar signs and club marquees, casting the avenue in kaleidoscopic shadows and prismatic puddles. Drunk citizens stumbled and laughed down the sidewalks, marinating in a slurry of drugs, alcohol, and thumping music that soaked every stone and breath of the district.

  A car rolled past too fast, kicking up a puddle. Isolde leaned to the side, narrowly dodging the splash.

  Earlier that night, a young girl had come to her, tearful and desperate, possibly offering her last job. Her roommate had gone out the night before and hadn’t come home. No calls or messages. Isolde had tracked down her now-ex-girlfriend and confirmed the obvious: a breakup, messy and fresh. Friends reported the roommate had gone out drinking, looking to drown herself in the mind-numbing ambience of this district.

  Isolde took a drag from her cigarette, trying to drown out the acrid stink of the street.

  Three clubs. Three people confirmed they’d seen the girl, but none of them knew where she’d ended up. At the second club, she’d ordered a cocktail infused with Glimmerglass. The drug would overwhelm her senses and disorient her as she staggered out deeper into the row. A pilgrimage in progress, each club a shrine. Each drink a holy offering on her slow crawl toward oblivion.

  Isolde approached the next club and flicked her cigarette into a puddle. The bouncer at the door was a minotaur, one of the more intimidating species, though anyone who knew better understood they were gentle giants, typically only lashing out when someone they loved was in danger.

  She stepped ahead of the line, badge out.

  “Blackthorn. Purser on duty. Have you seen this girl?” She flicked her ManaCell open — the missing girl’s photo lit the screen, distorted slightly by the holographic projection.

  The minotaur didn’t hesitate. Pursuit Agents didn’t wait for civilians.

  “Yeah. Made a hell of a scene last night. I had to kick her out. Hollering and cussing — she stumbled off that way.” He gestured toward the edge of the district, where the glow faded into alley-darkness.

  “You couldn’t have called her a car?”

  “I tried, sir. She wasn’t having it. Ran off before I could do anything. By the time I got back up to cover the door, she was gone.”

  Isolde nodded and moved on.

  She spat — clearing her throat of cigarette taste — and slipped into the alleys that veined the edges of Noctwyn like capillaries. The scents of the night layered on her tongue, a bitter stew of rot and mildew, perfume and old sweat. A vampire’s senses were often a curse. But tonight, they served her well.

  She caught the girl’s scent again — faint at first, tangled in the stench of the street, but clearer now that the noise of the crowd had thinned. She followed it from alley to alley, each turn narrowing her path, each step drawing her closer to the edge of something wrong.

  After nearly half an hour, the trail sharpened — and it reeked of adrenaline and panic, soaked through with chemical highs and thick fear.

  Two discarded heels. Then a purse — soaked in a black ichor that curled the lining.

  Isolde felt it in her spine. She knew what hunted this girl.

  She hoped she was wrong.

  She wasn’t.

  It is always awful to find the corpse of the young. Isolde hated it most of all.

  She knelt beside the body, brushing back the girl’s hair. What remained of her was light — far too light. Wrinkled skin like paper. Hollowed limbs. The kind of death that meant every ounce of mana had been drained, pulled from cell and soul until there was nothing left.

  The girl’s organs would be shrunken. Her blood crystallized. Her muscles, little more than threads.

  Isolde didn’t curse. She didn’t cry.

  She took out her cell, punched in the emergency number for ITD.

  It rang for a second. A voice answered: flat, clipped, official. A request for her code. She spouted off a series numbers and waited a moment for clearance to continue.

  “This is Blackthorn,” she said. Her voice was steel wrapped in silk. “Southern tip. Just outside the Whisperglass District. I need a cleanup crew on site.”

  A pause.

  She looked down at the girl again.

  “And log a ghoul in the city.”

  “I still don’t understand this game.” Caius threw his cards down on the coffee table. “I don't even understand how this deck is organized.”

  ”That’s the beauty of Snaphex!” Milo laughed. “The cards change every time you start a game. You will never play with an identical deck. You’ll learn eventually. We just have to get some basic magic knowledge in you first.”

  ”So you knew I had no chance here but we played anyway?”

  “Just be glad we weren’t playing for money.” Milo winked at him and gathered the cards. “Here, let's put something up on the Spec instead.”

  Caius furrowed his brow and pulled out his cell while Milo walked to a shelf to put the cards away. This world’s version of televisions were these units called Spectras. His cell was linked to their Spec already but he was still figuring his way through learning the controls. As he tried to select a show that Milo had referenced earlier in the week, the Spec fully shut off. Not with its usual slow pulse of purple. Just straight to black.

  ”UHHHHH Milo I think I broke it.” Caius was furiously tapping his cell trying to revive the unit. His roommate turned and frowned at the Spec and tried to use his own cell. Nothing was working.

  “Cai, I didn’t know you hated my media so much that-“ he cut off as the lights in the apartment flickered, once, twice, and then stabilised. The Spec flicked back on as well, and the two roommates were silent.

  “I don’t know much about your guys power systems, but how often does that-“

  ”Literally almost never.” Milo said. “It would require something seriously wrong with the mana batteries, but even then we would have our own backup crystals in place. I haven’t seen our power station in the building personally, but I know Grendel makes good money from the BPER to house us. Our equipment should be near the top of the line.”

  They sat in silence for a bit, waiting for anything to change but the lights and the Spec stayed on without any fault.

  “I’m sure that it’s fine.” Milo said, “Grendel would have let us know if there was something wrong.”

  “Right. If I have seen anything from him these last few days, it’s that he is on top of everything.”

  As if on cue, the lights shut off, plunging them into darkness.

  “Well shit.”

  Caius followed Milo down the hallway, using their cells to see. The soft blue glow illuminated about a foot around them, while the rest of the building was pitch black. They were a spotlight in a void, a raft of light on a dark ocean. Panic started to edge in on Caius’ mind, the sense of floating in nothing returning. He was lost again, just going, going, going-

  “Cai.” Milo’s voice was an anchor in the waves of fear, his lighthouse. Looking up, his breathing slowed down. He had been on the verge of hyperventilating.

  “We can go back if you want. This probably isn’t a big deal, we can just wait until the power comes back.”

  Caius steeled his resolve. He could not let this fear rule him. The tightness in his chest faded as he shoved the fear deep down as he could, saving it for Future Caius to deal with.

  “No, I’m okay. Basement right?” Milo squinted his eyes before relenting, and nodded his head softly.

  “Most likely spot for the power station. This is already longer than any blackout I have ever been in. Usually it’s just a matter of equipment misalignment or something.”

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  Caius talked as they walked, trying to distract himself from the rising tide of fear on the horizon.

  “You seem pretty knowledgeable about this stuff. Do you want to work with Mana crystals or something?”

  ”No, just a hobby. Dad always-“ Milo choked on the statement for a moment before letting himself finish it. “Dad always said that you should be able to fix your own equipment, no matter the situation. I’ve worked on just about every type of household tech, vehicles too.”

  ”That's impressive.” Caius responded, feeling a little tense about his next question, “But isn’t your family like, stupid rich? Elias mentioned something about their business when he showed me your files. Don’t you have people for that?”

  Milo sighed, and when Caius looked at him, he had a small melancholy smile.

  ”They are. Gravehound has been around for centuries. The entire population of my family could fill a District.” Milo snorted a laugh, “You would never catch a main branch Quinn household with staff like that. Quinns respect strength, whether it’s physical, mental, magical. You show you are strong by being in control whenever possible. Dad had me collared for that exact mentality. I shifted when I shouldn’t have, and showed I lacked control.”

  Silence returned to their little scouting party as they stepped onto the ground floor. Grendel’s desk sat empty, the lobby felt smaller without its giant occupant.

  “That really sucks Milo. I can’t imagine doing that to my kid.” Caius followed Milo as he exited the front door. Their building was a black spot on the well lit street.

  “It’s okay. This is a conversation for another time anyways.” Milo nodded to the apartment complex. “If we are the only ones out, it is definitely our station. I bet the door is around back.”

  ”I think I saw it when Elias and I pulled up, there were a few doors in the alley.”

  Following the perimeter, they wound their way toward where Elias had parked when he had dropped Caius off. Silence lay heavy in the air, no cars passed on the street behind them, and no animals made noise. Their breath seemed to muffle as it left their lungs. They passed the first two doors, one was for the convenience store and the other seemed to be roof access. The third door had a small plaque, “Hearthstone MCPU”, and stood slightly ajar.

  ”That has to be a bad sign right?” Caius asked

  ”Maybe Grendel is fixing it?” Milo shot back, “Or maybe someone was drunk enough to walk into the wrong door.”

  ”I’m not fighting a drunk dude to turn our Spec back on, but let's go.” Caius pulled the door open the rest of the way, letting Milo enter first. He pulled his baton from his hip, where the BPER issue cargo pants had a built in sheathe for this sort of weapon, and followed right behind.

  A short hallway stood dark before them, only a few meters long. Light strips flickered in and out along the edge, struggling like a swimmer trying to tread water in the middle of the ocean. A low hum echoed from the far door, along with a deep moaning.

  “Maybe it's just some couple gettin it on and they bumped the generator out of alignment?” Caius whispered, voice tinged with hope.

  ”Then I get to kick some little perverts ass so I can watch my show.” Milo growled back

  ”Who’s kink shaming now shifter-boy?” They chuckled, some of the tension leaving them. They edged forward, approaching the noise from the power station. Red and purple lights flickered, casting strange shadows across the threshold as they pulled the door open.

  Deep in the room, a green metal box, with grooves and runes carved into its surface. Most of the Power Unit was obscured by an emaciated, pale body. Bones jutted from within its thin flesh, hips and ribs hung off of a sharp spine. They could see it’s individual joints move as the creature convulsed, its body roiling in an almost sexual way. Tuberous growths from its arms clung to the surface of the Power Unit, the purple and red mana power being siphoned along glowing veins. Where the skin split to allow the growths to extend from its body, thick black ichor dripped in a massive growing puddle beneath it.

  “What the fu-“ Milo slapped a hand across Caius’ mouth, his eyes wide with panic. The creature froze, as if it was carved from a pure white marble. A few heartbeats passed, and Milo started to pull Caius back toward the door. Caius tore his gaze from the creature for only a moment, when a terrible suction sounded, the creature ripping its arms from the power unit. In one smooth motion.

  Milo’s hands crashed into his chest, sending him stumbling a few feet back. Caius watched as a thin arm swung through the space he had stood only a moment earlier.

  The face of his attacker would haunt him forever. It’s head looked like a human skull draped in skin, but that was where the similarity ended. Its eyes were deep purple orbs that could have passed for black if not for the strange glow that shone from deep inside them. Its nose was rotted away, exposing sinus cavities that dripped with the same black ichor. Its jaw was distended, hanging low against its collar bone. Where a tongue should be, a long leech squirmed and stretched. The teeth were smaller versions of its tongue, evoking an image of a dark cave full of parasites waiting to devour trespassers.

  Pivoting on its heels, it spun toward Caius and began to lunge. This thing had crossed the room in a moment, there was no way it wouldn’t reach him. He crossed his arms in front of him, as a hairy fist slammed into its exposed ribcage.

  Milo’s strike was well placed, and any other therianthrope would have sent it flying across the room. His instincts had been correct, his muscle memory sending him into action. But he was not the shifter he had once been, and the collar glowed brighter as it resisted his attempts to pull on his bloodline and adopt his inborn traits.

  The creature stumbled, its arms hanging by its sides. Its head tilted sickeningly, its spine turning in a way that should not have been possible. Swinging up and out, it clubbed Milo, sending him across the room instead. His eyes splayed wide, surprise and realization coming to him at the same time. With a crunch, his head hit the wall and he was out.

  Caius swung his baton at the creature, the metal bar whistling through the air, its runes pulsing as the kinetic energy built inside. It was inches from the thing’s nightmare of a skull, he could crush it and they would be rid of whatever it was.

  He hit air, its grotesque body pivoting again, defying physics like a marionette on strings. Arms swinging about as if attached by ball joints, it simply stepped out of his way. Caius had missed, and could only watch as its knees bent in preparation to lunge.

  I don't want to die. His voice sounded in his own head. He closed his eyes, drowning the oncoming strike in darkness. I just got here, I don’t want to die.

  His heart pounded a drumbeat in his skull. Something inside him surged, filling his body. Is this what happens as your body prepares to die? He thought to himself. A chill wrapped his bones, twisted along his muscles, soaked into his skin.

  And then he was on his knees, skidding along the floor. The momentum of his missed strike sent him a foot or two forward. Eyes snapped open and his head whipped to the side. The creature was framed by the open door frame, standing a few feet past him with its arms outstretched.

  IT MISSED?! The horror seemed to share his thought, and its head twisted toward him, mirroring his motion. Bones rippled as it stood up straight and the lights flicked behind it, casting a massive shadow in the hallway. Wait. In the hallway? That didn’t make sense-

  An axe thudded into the wall. Lights flickered again, showing Grendel in the dim glow, massive and grim. The creature slumped, its head removed from its neck. The jaw fell away separately, also severed by the landlord’s mighty swing. Caius watched the glow behind the eyes dim and die out, whatever drove the creature departing its corpse.

  ”Fucking ghoul.” He spat, his usually calm voice dripping with malice.

  “Caius.” A voice rattled in his ears. God, his head hurt. He peeled open his eyes, a large figure looming over him. Panic hit quickly and he scrambled, only to be pinned in place by a large hand on his shoulder.

  ”Calm down son. It's Grendel. You passed out for a moment.” The situation started to come back to him.

  ”Milo..” he rasped, struggling to rise.

  Grendel’s hand slid under his arm and helped him to a sitting position. “He’s okay, just had a little ringer. Looks worse than it is.”

  The lights flickered on, searing his retinas. He hissed as it stung for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut for a beat before slowly opening them again. The room was smaller than it looked in the dark, only a few meters long on each side. Ichor dripped off of every magical surface and in a large puddle near the door.

  Remembering Milo, he jerked his head toward his friend, who was sitting against the wall not far from him. Blood soaked one side of his head and face, but he managed to give Caius a weak thumbs up. Relief flooded through him, and he sagged in Grendel’s grip.

  “None of that now, come on.” He pulled him to the wall next to Milo, before kneeling in front of him and putting a finger under his chin. Grendel studied his pupils for a moment, before nodding to himself. As he pulled out his cell, familiar whining sirens echoed from outside.

  “About damn time.” Grendel grumbled quietly, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself upright. The far door banged open, voices echoing down the hall. One loud yell passed the threshold.

  ”COLLAR! LAY FACE DOWN ON THE GROUND OR YOU WILL BE CLASSIFIED AS HOSTILE!”

  Caius was confused. Grendel snarled, backpedaling until he was on the other side of Milo from Caius.

  ”Grendel, what-“

  ”They aren’t here for the fucking ghoul. Milo must have tried to shift. Triggered the alert on his collar.”

  “FINAL WARNING!” the voice came again, and several people in glowing body armor breached the threshold. Weapons were drawn, one of them pointing a magic fueled gun directly at Milo.

  Grendel stepped forward, hands raised. Even with a sign of submission, his massive form radiated aggression.

  “The situation is over, calm down. Hostities are neutralized.”

  The team of Pursuit Agents seemed to calm down some, most of them loosening their grips on their weapons. The gun wielder however, kept pointing his firearm at Milo.

  ”Quit pointing that thing at him!” Caius snarled, trying and failing to get to his feet. “He was trying to save my fucking life.”

  The gun wielder looked at him for a moment, before sharply nodding at him. One of the other PA’s stepped forward and pulled Caius away with a quick tug. He stumbled up, tripping over his own feet. Only the strength of the agent held him upright.

  ”He broke the containment protocol. Heroism can be sorted out by the BPER.”

  Another agent stepped forward, dragging Milo to his feet in a similar way, snapping heavy manacles on him that Caius recognized from his own arrest a few days earlier.

  He tried to step forward, but the agent held him firmly in place.

  “Don’t interfere.” The agent’s voice was quiet but firm. “It’s better to just let him go. You can testify later.”

  “Where the hell is a team for the ghoul?!” Grendel roared at the agents. Milo had been hauled off a few minutes prior, and a few agents still present were assessing the scene.

  “A team was dispatched shortly before we arrived. The ghoul went undetected. They were only alerted to the draw in the mana system.” One of the agents was trying to be diplomatic, but Grendel was too angry. Caius had not known this side of the large man existed.

  ”Hey, buddy, try to keep your eyes focused on me okay?”

  The agent with Caius was trying to assess him. They had him sit down on a crate, and were categorizing his symptoms.

  ”Disorientation, headache, fever. Seems like just some mana burn.”

  Caius was confused.

  ”Mana burn? What is that?”

  ”It's not too serious sir, you just cast more than you should have. Your channels should recover in a few hours.”

  ”I don’t understand, cast?”

  The agent looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

  “Uh, magic. You cast too much magic. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too?” He lifted one of Caius drooping eyelids and looked at his pupil. He shoved him off, swaying heavily before righting himself.

  ”No, I didn’t. I just…nevermind.”

  ”Alright sir, I am going to let your friend here help you out. We have to finish our investigation before the ghoul team arrives.” He stood, turning toward the other agent with Grendel. Their conversation had quieted down, Grendel’s anger smoothing out. He was still pissed, but he had reinstated his grip on himself.

  Casting? He thought. I don’t know how to cast anything. I haven’t even known magic was real for a week yet.

  The crate creaked underneath him as he leaned forward, his forehead landing in his palms. The lights buzzed, the ghoul was dead. Somehow, nothing felt over.