NINE PINS DOWN

The Halcroft Police Department had seen its share of blood. But this—this was different. Nine bodies in a single week, all from one family, The Masons, each being killed in their own twisted way. The most recent one was Ivana Mason, 22, college student, apparently going home from a party.

Detective Arnell lit a cigarette, as he flipped through the files again. The only thread connecting the victims: shared blood. Nothing else.

"We've got nothin'. No enemies, no debts, no public disputes," his partner muttered, wiping sweat off his brow. "But nine? This ain't random."

Arnell glanced over at the chart on the wall. Nine red pins. Nine lives snuffed. His gut twisted.

"We're out of our depth. This smells like Ledger business."

Selene Virelle leaned over her desk in the dim office of her private wing within the Ledger's Halcroft branch. A sealed folder lay open in front of her—inside, a quiet report hand-delivered from her contact in the department.

Nine victims. All Masons. And all killed with eerie precision. The kind of killings that made civilians shiver and the Ledger raise its eyes. No signs of powers, but the method? Too gory and messy. Some of them looked like they were killed by dogs and some of them had missing body parts.

Her fingers tapped the table, then stilled.

"Either an Arbiter… or something an Arbiter created."

She closed the file.

"Time to take a deeper look."

_____

The sun shone down on Halcroft High's turf field, where a full-contact football scrimmage was already well underway. Cal Everene, once a ghost in the halls, was suddenly the talk of the locker room. And now, on the field, he was starting to prove why.

"Yo, Cal!" Nate shouted from the sideline, "Split left! Watch #82!"

Cal nodded, adjusted his stance, and when the ball snapped—he moved. His feet blurred on the field, his body low to the ground as he dashed past defenders, juked two linemen, and caught the ball on a slant route that should've been impossible. One safety made the mistake of going for a tackle; Cal braced, pivoted, and sent the guy sprawling with shoulder strength that surprised even himself.

The crowd screamed. Their team's cheerleaders erupted, fronted by none other than Becky. Her high ponytail bounced as she clapped with excitement, catching Cal's eye as he jogged off the field after the play. She winked, again.

Nate jogged up, laughing. "Man!, you're on fire today"

Cal just smirked, breath steady, eyes scanning the roaring crowd like he'd been here before.

They won with an overwhelming lead. The coach pulled Cal aside afterward, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Why the hell didn't you try out last year?"

Cal grinned. "Didn't like the color of the jerseys." 

The coach gave him a look, like he wasn't sure if he should be impressed or irritated, then turned turned to commend the rest of the team.

After a short while, the team dispersed, but Becky was waiting near the locker room doors, clutching a water bottle, her eyes following him.

"That was insane," she said. "You're, like… a whole different person now."

Cal laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I just started trying."

"You doing anything after school?"

And there it was—the moment he'd dreamed of.

But Ledger work waited. Garron waited. And unfortunately, Garron didn't like to be kept waiting.

"I've got… stuff," Cal said, tone apologetic. "Can't really skip out today."

She tilted her head, slightly disappointed but smiling still. "No worries. See you around?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

The Ledger facility buzzed with its usual quiet intensity. No sign of Selene today, but operatives and analysts hurried from corridor to corridor. Cal greeted Garron in passing and slipped into his training regimen—routine, focused, brutal. Core routines. Obstacle work. Object retrieval drills.

It passed in a blur. Then, just as he was getting ready to leave, the side doors hissed open.

Selene stepped through—cool, composed, and sharp as ever. But it was the woman walking beside her that made Cal blink.

The new Arbiter was chewing pink gum, her short black-and-white streaked hair packed into two wild buns. Her jacket was half-off one shoulder, a belt of silver pins around her waist. She looked like a circus performer who'd walked off the wrong stage and into the war room.

"Yo, kid," Selene said, waving him over. "You're gonna want to see this."

Cal approached, trying not to stare.

"This is Kaela Venn," Selene continued. "Ledger contracts her for… special cases."

Kaela popped her gum, staring at him. "Cute."

Cal blinked.

Selene smirked. "He's mine."

"Hey—!" Cal started, face flushing.

Kaela just chuckled.

"Her power..." Selene began, changing the subject. "Flashback, lets her see into the past. Give her something personal, and she can see into the last month of your life."

"Creepy," Cal said.

"Useful," Selene corrected.

She pulled out a black duffel and unzipped it. Inside—combs, shirts, old boots, even a cracked pair of glasses. Items from the nine victims. Cal's eyes widened slightly.

Kaela raised a brow. "Nine? Must've been one hell of a family picnic."

"Focus," Selene warned.

Kaela stepped forward, the light dimming slightly around them as she removed her gloves. She placed a hand on the items one at a time. Her pupils lit—soft, eerie green.

And then it happened. Nine glowing screens hovered in the air, transparent projections shifting and twisting like liquid memory. Each one held the final moments of a Mason's life. Each one showed monsters.

"Holy…" Cal whispered.

Twisted creatures with bodies like experiments gone wrong, skin marked with strange gold-glowing sigils. And in the corner of one screen, almost hidden in the background—Golden eyes. A mask. Human-shaped, but unreadable.

Selene stepped closer, her face unreadable.

"Pause," she said.

Kaela's hands twitched. The images froze. Selene studied the golden eyes.

"An Arbiter," she whispered. "Or someone using their power."

Kaela flexed her fingers, pulling back.

"Creepy bastards," she said, wiping her hands on her pants. "That all you need?"

"You did great." Selene nodded. "You always do."

Kaela grinned. "Compliments make me generous."

She turned to Cal, eyeing him again. "So, what's your deal, newbie ?"

Cal tried to stand taller. "I'm… working on it."

"She's training him," Kaela said, eyes flicking toward Selene. "That explains the protective vibe. But he's definitely your type."

"Damn right," Selene said, her tone shameless. "He's my new plaything."

"Selene—!"

Kaela burst into laughter, already walking toward the exit. "You Ledger types are a riot."

Cal rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel like I'm part of some inside joke."

"You are," Selene said, but her voice softened. "Welcome to the job."

The lights above them flickered and across the room, one of the images still hovered faintly—those golden eyes staring out from the screen, watching, waiting.

Unblinking.