The Dark Truth

While Arnik and his friends reveled in their evening of laughter and celebration, another part of the world moved in calculated silence.

The Citadel stood in stark contrast to the city's warmth, a cold, towering monument of power. Its corridors stretched in endless, polished marble—untouched by time, indifferent to the lives moving through them.

Satsujin walked with quiet precision, his gloved hands carrying a sheaf of documents. His every movement was purposeful, calculated. This was no ordinary delivery.

At an intersection, two figures approached—sharp, poised, their presence deliberate.

Miss Callaway greeted him with a practiced smile. "Mr. Satsujin. Working late?"

Satsujin inclined his head. "Miss Callaway. The work never ends."

She let out a measured hum. "Indeed. But tonight, there are more pressing matters."

Her younger companion checked his watch. "Miss Callaway, we're expected in two minutes."

She nodded, turning back to Satsujin. "Another time, then. It's been too long."

Satsujin gave a polite nod. "Until then."

As they disappeared down the hall, the warmth of the exchange faded, leaving only the cold weight of duty.

He resumed his march, eyes locked ahead as the grand double doors loomed before him. With a firm push, he entered.

The chamber was vast, lined with towering bookshelves filled with history's weight. A massive window framed the cityscape, where hover trains streaked through the sky, their neon trails casting fractured reflections across the floor.

At the window stood Sovereign Lionel.

Hands clasped behind his back, he stared out over his domain. His presence alone commanded the air in the room—unyielding, absolute.

"What do you have for me, Satsujin?"

Satsujin stepped forward, placing the documents onto the desk with quiet precision. "Lord Lionel, I've identified the greatest threat to our plans."

Lionel turned slowly, his gaze settling on the papers like a predator stalking its prey. He plucked the top sheet, eyes scanning the contents.

The room grew heavier with silence.

Then, a slow smile curved across Lionel's lips—dark, twisted, laced with amusement. He flipped through the pages, his grin widening with each one.

And then, the laughter began.

Low at first, then deeper, spreading through the chamber like the first rumble of a storm.

"I've been waiting for this," he murmured, his fingers tightening around the papers.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent them scattering. One photograph fluttered to the ground, landing face-up.

A family portrait. Crimson-eyed demi-wolves stood together, their expressions unwavering even in stillness.

Sentryon Family Line.

Lionel's breath hitched. His fingers traced the edges of the photo, his expression caught between exhilaration and something far darker.

"This… this is perfection." His voice was almost reverent. "A new age… and they don't even see it coming."

Satsujin shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, there's still the matter of the first mutant ability. We haven't located it. And…" He hesitated. "Handerfall has been moving. He's been meeting with the Sovereigns. There are whispers—"

Lionel's smile vanished. His expression hardened, the air in the room turning sharp.

"I see," he said, his voice dangerously even. "We've been compromised."

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Then—Lionel's grin returned, wild and unhinged. His arms flung wide as he roared:

"Then we move. Now."

Back at Arnik's house, the night was alive with laughter.

Rose sprawled across the couch, stretching like a cat, arms thrown over her head. "This is the life," she declared, grinning. "No rules, no stress, just good food and better company."

"Take off your shoes," Kai sighed, barely sparing her a glance. "You're not a wild animal."

Rose smirked. "You sure? Because I'm pretty sure I just heard you growl earlier."

Kai adjusted his glasses. "That was me sighing."

With exaggerated flair, Rose kicked off her shoes, one boot landing with a thud against the table. Kai visibly flinched.

"Relax, Mr. Neat Freak," she teased. "Not like I tracked in mud."

"Not yet," Kai muttered.

Before their usual back-and-forth could spiral, Arnik clapped his hands together.

"Alright, before we start, let's go over the most important rule in this house."

Without missing a beat, the group answered in perfect unison—grinning as they said:

"Don't let Markus cook!"

Markus groaned, tail flicking in protest. "Seriously? I burn a few things—"

"Burnt water," Kai corrected, deadpan.

Rose snorted, nearly choking on her own laughter.

"And now I'm banned for life?" Markus muttered, shaking his head, but even he couldn't help smiling.

"It's for the safety of all involved," Arnik teased, tossing him an apron anyway. "You can chop onions. Just stay far away from the stove."

Aika, still half-asleep, dragged herself to the counter, barely keeping her eyes open as she measured ingredients. Rose grabbed a pair of tongs—only to immediately drop them with a loud clang before groaning like she had suffered a mortal wound.

Arnik flipped takoyaki with effortless skill, his confident technique earning exaggerated applause from the others. Even Kai, ever meticulous, was chopping green onions with the precision of a trained assassin.

"Efficiency is key," Kai muttered, laser-focused.

The warm atmosphere only cracked when Markus's phone buzzed against the counter. He picked it up, ears twitching slightly as he read the message.

His expression shifted. The warmth dimmed.

"Guys," he started, voice tinged with regret. "I have to go. My mom's expecting me for dinner."

Rose groaned, flopping onto the counter. "Seriously? Tonight?"

"I know," Markus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His crimson eyes held quiet apology. "She's been planning it for a while. I can't just skip it."

Kai gave a small nod. "Family comes first. Don't feel bad about it."

Rose huffed, dramatically waving him off. "Fine. But you owe us."

Markus chuckled, clasping hands with Arnik in a firm handshake.

"Looks like our rematch will have to wait."

Arnik grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll still be here to kick your ass anytime."

With a final wave, Markus stepped outside.

Sunset Had Faded Into Twilight

The city was alive.

Warm hues of orange and purple stretched across the horizon, fading into the neon glow of street signs and traffic lights. Hovercars zipped overhead, their underlights casting shimmering reflections on the damp pavement.

Markus exhaled, watching his breath swirl in the cooling air.

By the time he reached the train station, the last of the sun had sunk beyond the skyline, leaving only the glow of the city to light the way.

He leaned against the window as the train carried him through the illuminated expanse, watching the world blur past in streaks of color.

How much has changed… and how much more will?