Night fell over Budapest.
The railway station stood unnaturally empty. No civilians. No stray travelers. No late trains being announced over speakers. The coven had cleared it completely.
Alia was arriving.
As the current ruling Elder of the Eastern Coven, her presence demanded absolute control. The platform lights burned cold and white over polished stone.
Ard vampires stood in disciplined lines, coats still, guns ready, faces expressionless as they waited for the train that would carry one of the three Elders.
Sowhere beyond the station walls, the city carried on unaware.
High above, on a rooftop across from the platform, Selene stood at the edge, coat shifting slightly in the wind. Her eyes were locked on the tracks below, posture rigid, alert.
Behind her, completely out of place—
Ethan sat comfortably on a folding chair he'd dragged up there, one leg crossed over the other, eating popcorn from a paper tub and sipping from a drink like he was watching a late-night movie.
Selene didn't turn, but her voice cut through the quiet.
"Can't you take anything seriously?"
Ethan tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Why should I? I'm an outsider. This isn't my coven. My war. My politics."
He gestured lazily toward the platform below.
"The only reason I'm here is because you wanted to know whether Kraven betrayed the vampires or not."
He had said Alia would die tonight.
Before she even stepped fully off that train.
Selene had rejected it imdiately. "Impossible," she'd told him. Alia was an Elder. She would have elite security. Ard escort. No Lycan force could breach that kind of protection.
But Ethan had only smiled.
"She'll die," he'd said calmly. "And the vampires who ca to receive her?"
"They'll just stand there and watch."
That why Selene ca to confirm his words
Below them, in the distance—
The faint vibration of steel on steel began to hum through the tracks.
The train was arriving.
Selene's eyes sharpened.
Ethan leaned back in his chair.
"Showti."
The train rolled into the platform and slowed to a stop.
Vampires stood ready, guns steady, eyes on the carriage where Alia was seated.
For a second, everything was controlled.
Then—
A howl cut through the station.
Sharp. Close.
Selene stiffened.
Another howl answered from above.
Before the doors could fully open, sothing heavy slamd onto the roof of the train. tal bent inward with a loud crack.
Gunfire erupted.
The roof tore open.
Lycans dropped down directly onto the carriage.
Inside.
Screams. Snarls. Rapid shots fired at point-blank range.
The vampires who had co to receive Alia did nothing.
They stood in formation along the platform, guns in hand, watching as the Lycans stord through the train cabins. Glass shattered. tal bent. Screams echoed from inside—but the so-called escort didn't move a single step forward.
They were guarding nothing.
They were waiting.
Selene's jaw tightened as the truth settled in.
There was no way the Lycans could have known Alia's arrival ti without inside information. The station had been cleared. The escort was present. And yet, when the attack began, the vampires simply watched.
Kraven.
It wasn't incompetence.
It was betrayal.
Her eyes hardened, cold and lethal. That was all the confirmation she needed.
She drew her guns in one smooth motion, stepping toward the edge of the rooftop. Below, the train carriage doors were being torn apart, shadows moving violently inside.
She would not stand there and watch an Elder die.
"What, you're going to save her?" Ethan asked, not moving from his seat.
"Yes." Her voice was steady, controlled. "I am a death dealer. When I see Lycans, I kill them."
And before he could say anything else, she stepped off the building.
She didn't hesitate.
She fell straight toward the platform below, guns already angled for the first target.
"Hah… she's really a model worker," Ethan muttered, watching Selene drop into the chaos below. "Well, that'll only last until tonight."
His eyes shifted toward the train where the attack was unfolding.
"Tonight will be a bloodbath," he continued quietly. "And I'll make sure she's the one who kills that old bastard Victor. That ancient mummy doesn't deserve to keep breathing."
There was no humor in his tone now.
Victor's sin wasn't political.
It was personal.
Killing his own daughter because she loved the wrong man. Destroying two lives for pride and power.
As soone who believed in love—however twisted his own version might be—Ethan despised that.
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Should I add Lucian to the plan?" he wondered aloud. "It would be poetic. Let him watch Victor fall."
The idea lingered for only a second before a slow grin ford on his face.
"Yep. It's decided."
He stood, brushing imaginary dust off his coat as gunfire echoed below.
"Let's go perform a proper welcoming party for the old man."
And with that, he stepped off the rooftop and dropped straight toward the platform.
He didn't slow his descent.
He landed on top of the train hard enough to dent the tal roof beneath his boots. The entire carriage shook from the impact, the vibration running down the length of the train and into the rails.
Then he snapped his fingers.
The tremor intensified instantly. The train rattled violently, windows cracking, tal panels warping under invisible pressure. Even the platform beneath began to shake.
Inside the cabins, Lycans paused mid-attack. Vampires staggered, confused by the sudden instability.
Ethan stood calmly on the roof as red energy pulsed around him, subtle but heavy. He could feel it now—every injured body below, every drop of blood spilled inside the train. It responded to him like it recognized sothing higher.
The rumbling deepened.
"It's ti," he said evenly, not shouting, not dramatizing, just stating a fact. "This world learns what a Progenitor is."
*****
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