_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Sera regained consciousness on a cold metal examination table, the harsh fluorescent lights above momentarily blinding her. Her trained mind fought through the lingering sedatives, immediately cataloging her physical state—dehydration, several healing wounds, and a persistent ache where a tranquilizer dart had struck her neck. The processing center around her came into focus gradually: white walls, medical equipment, and the soft beeping of monitoring machines.

  Fantastic. Captured and processed like cattle. Commander Vex would be so proud.

  A human colborator in a white uniform approached, scanned her barcode bracelet, and mechanically expined she's now property of Count Dominic Bckwood's Eastern Blood Valley territory.

  "Subject designation 4172," the woman stated ftly. "You are now property of Count Dominic Ashcroft's Eastern Blood Valley territory."

  Property. Just like that. Ten years of hunting vampires, and now I'm reduced to inventory.

  Sera maintained a vacant expression while her hunter instincts silently assessed the room—two security cameras, one vampire guard by the door scrolling disinterestedly through a tablet, and the steady flow of new captives being processed through various stations.

  Two cameras. One bored vamp. Multiple exits, all secured. Standard processing facility. Lovely.

  She noticed an older man across the room watching her with unusual composure. Their eyes met briefly before both strategically averted their gaze.

  Interesting. He's not panicking. Either broke already or something else entirely.

  The sound of a metal door smming echoed through the facility, and suddenly—

  Running through woods, breath burning in her lungs. Gunfire. The crack of branches.

  "Leave her!" Marcus's voice through the comm link, cold and final.

  She's pulled back to the present as the technician moves her to the next processing station.