Cain did not stop walking.
He felt them before he saw them.
The air behind him changed first, growing tense, filled with the sharp intent of hunters who were no longer trying to hide their presence. Footsteps followed, fast and heavy despite the attempt to keep them controlled. The sound of armor brushing against itself, the faint clink of weapons, the low voices of soldiers speaking through clenched teeth as they moved through the halls.
Then he turned his head slightly.
They were there.
A squad of vampires, fully equipped, their bodies wrapped in fitted suits made for daylight, dark fabric layered with enchanted threads that protected their skin from the sun. Their eyes were sharp, their movents precise, and their expressions carried the sa urgency that had begun to spread through the palace.
"Over there!"
One of them pointed.
"That human!"
Another voice followed imdiately.
"Stop him!"
Their tone left no room for doubt.
They were not asking.
They were not warning.
They were hunting.
Cain looked at them for a brief mont, his face calm, unreadable, as though he had expected this to happen from the very start.
"...So it begins."
Then—
He moved.
Not with panic.
Not with haste.
But with smooth, effortless speed that made it seem like the distance between one step and the next had simply disappeared for him.
The soldiers lunged forward.
"Don’t let him escape!"
Their boots struck the polished floor, their bodies accelerating as they chased after him through the long corridors, their formation tightening as they moved, blocking paths, cutting angles, working together with trained coordination.
"He went left!"
"No, straight ahead!"
"Spread out!"
Their voices overlapped, sharp and controlled, but beneath it all was sothing else.
Tension.
They knew what they were chasing.
A daywalker.
A being that should not exist freely within their domain.
A threat.
Cain ran ahead of them, his pace steady, his breathing even, his steps light against the ground as he weaved through the vast halls without hesitation, as though he had already morized the layout.
But inside—
His thoughts moved elsewhere.
Not on the chase.
Not on the soldiers.
But on sothing far older.
Far deeper.
"...So this is how it feels again."
The mory rose without warning.
Not clear.
Not gentle.
But heavy.
He rembered the first ti he had truly felt sothing close to connection.
It had not been love.
There had been no ti for that.
No space for it to grow.
Only survival.
Only struggle.
Only the constant shadow of death following every step.
The three sisters—
Faith.
Ivira.
Cornelia.
In that first life, they had died.
Too early.
Too easily.
Gone before anything could be built, before anything could be protected.
And after that—
There had been her.
The blonde girl.
Her face ca back to him in fragnts.
Tired eyes that still held stubborn strength.
Hair that caught the light in ways that made her stand out even in the darkest places.
She had not been strong.
Not even close.
Neither of them had been.
They had been lost.
Confused.
Thrown into a world that did not give them ti to understand it.
"...We relied on each other."
Not out of romance.
Not out of desire.
But because there had been no one else.
They had fought together.
Run together.
Hidden together.
Their backs against the sa walls, their lives hanging by threads that could snap at any mont.
He rembered her voice.
"Cain... do you think we’ll survive this?"
And his answer.
"I don’t know. But we’ll try."
It had not been comforting.
It had not been strong.
But it had been honest.
They had not been given the chance to beco anything more.
Because the ones who hunted them—
Were not normal vampires.
They were sothing worse.
"...Daywalkers."
Vampires who had abandoned the night.
Who had chosen light.
Who had gained power that burned through darkness and hunted those who still clung to their nature.
They had been relentless.
Unforgiving.
He rembered running.
The fear.
The exhaustion.
The sound of their pursuers growing closer with every step.
He rembered her hand slipping from his.
The mont when everything fell apart.
"...We were too weak."
The mory faded.
The present returned.
Cain’s eyes sharpened slightly as he continued moving through the palace, the sound of footsteps still chasing him from behind.
"...So why..."
His thoughts narrowed.
"...is it reversed now?"
Back then—
Daywalkers hunted vampires.
Now—
Vampires hunted daywalkers.
"...What changed?"
His mind turned.
Sothing was wrong.
Sothing did not match the pattern he had experienced before.
"...Or maybe..."
A faint thought crossed his mind.
"...this world was never as simple as I thought."
Behind him, the soldiers grew closer.
"There!"
"He’s heading toward the lower levels!"
"Cut him off!"
Cain’s gaze moved forward.
The path ahead opened into a wider corridor, leading toward the lower sections where the demi-humans worked and moved in constant flow.
"...Enough running."
His steps slowed.
Not in exhaustion.
But in decision.
"...Let’s change the ga."
His body moved.
And in that instant—
It changed.
His form twisted, bones and flesh reshaping with unnatural ease, his height lowering, his fra compacting as fur spread across his skin in a dark, rough coat. His limbs shortened and thickened, his face altering into sothing more beast-like, sothing that blended perfectly with the many demi-humans that moved through the lower halls.
A demonic badger.
Small.
Unassuming.
Unremarkable.
He stepped into the flow of movent.
And disappeared.
The soldiers reached the corridor monts later.
"Where did he go?!"
"He was just here!"
"Spread out! Check every path!"
Their voices rose, sharp with frustration as they searched the area, their eyes scanning every face, every figure, every shadow.
"...Damn it!"
One of them slamd his fist lightly against the wall.
"He couldn’t have just vanished!"
Another spoke quickly.
"He’s here. He has to be."
"Then find him!"
Their formation broke apart as they began to search more thoroughly, moving into the lower halls where the demi-humans worked.
Panic began to spread.
Not among the soldiers.
But among the workers.
"What’s going on?"
"Why are they here?"
"Stay in line!"
"Don’t look up!"
The demi-humans lowered their heads quickly, their movents growing stiff as the soldiers began to inspect them one by one.
"You!"
A soldier grabbed one by the shoulder.
"Identification token!"
The demi-human fumbled quickly, pulling out a small tallic object from his belt, holding it out with trembling hands.
The soldier took it, glanced at it, then shoved him aside.
"Next!"
Another was pulled forward.
"Token!"
"Yes! Yes, here!"
The process repeated.
Again.
And again.
The tension built with every passing mont.
Cain stood among them.
Silent.
Still.
Watching.
"...So that’s how they check."
His eyes followed the movent carefully, noting every detail, every gesture, every sign of what was expected.
"...Identification tokens."
A problem.
A simple one.
But a problem nonetheless.
"...No rush."
He remained calm.
Blending in.
Observing.
A soldier moved closer.
Then another.
The line shortened.
The distance closed.
One by one, the demi-humans were checked, their tokens inspected before being pushed aside.
Then—
A shadow fell over him.
A presence stopped directly in front of him.
Cain slowly lifted his head.
The soldier’s eyes locked onto him, sharp and suspicious.
"Hey."
His voice was firm.
"Where’s yours?"
A hand extended.
"Your identification token."
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