BAITED STEEL

Cal sat on a leather-backed chair, unmoving, his elbows pressed against his knees and hands clasped. His eyes stared into the floor like it held answers to questions he hadn't yet asked. The images from Kaela's power replayed over and over in his mind; the monsters, the sigils etched into their flesh, and the golden-eyed masked man watching from the shadows like a phantom director behind a brutal performance.

What if those things showed up at his house? What if his mom—tired, hardworking, completely unaware of this part of his life, opened the door and saw one of those creatures staring back at her? What if Becky or Nate were next?. The thought made his jaw clench.

Across the room, Selene slipped off a comm-link earpiece and walked toward him. She didn't say anything at first, just let the silence sit for a moment as she folded her arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall beside him. Her smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, playfully biting.

"You look like someone just told you monsters were real," she said, nudging him lightly with her foot. "Oh wait… they did."

Cal looked up. "You saw those things. How the hell do you not look worried?"

"I don't worry," she said with a shrug. "I plan." Her teasing tone softened. "And right now, the plan involves you."

Cal tilted his head. "Me?"

Selene gave a nod, pushing off the wall and walking around him with the grace of a panther. "Got off the line with one of my people in the force. There's one Mason left—well, technically three. Two adults and a kid. They're terrified. Cops can't help them, and officially, we don't exist."

She turned to face him, the teasing gone from her voice. "Which is why you are going into the field."

Cal's eyes widened. "Wait, what? I just saw those things tear people apart on holographic replay and you want me to—"

"Live with them," she finished. "Guard them. Protect them. And if we're lucky… lure the bastard out."

"So I'm bait."

"You're the blade hidden beneath the bait," she said, stepping closer. "They won't expect an Arbiter. They'll expect fear. That gives us an edge."

Cal stood, unsure if his legs were shaking from nerves or something deeper. "I'm not ready for this."

Selene raised an eyebrow. "If I thought that, you'd still be doing pushups for Garron."

He opened his mouth to protest again but stopped short. Something in her gaze; confidence, certainty, made his stomach knot in a weird way. Not fear, exactly. Weight.

"Alright," he said. "I'll do it. How do I even go about it?"

"You'll live in the house for a few days. Armed personnel will be stationed around the perimeter, but you'll be the only Arbiter inside. Pretend to be a distant cousin or some Ledger-assigned security detail, doesn't matter. Just be there."

Cal hesitated. "What about school?"

Selene gave a mock gasp. "Oh no, the tragic sacrifice of Algebra class."

He gave her a look. She smirked. "Call in sick."

Later that night, the moon hung like a silver coin tossed into a dark ocean. Cal stood near a black van parked outside the Ledger facility, dressed in a muted uniform—tactical, but plain enough not to scream 'combat ready.'

Selene walked up behind him, arms crossed. "You ready?"

"Barely." He adjusted his collar, trying not to sweat. The suit they'd put him in felt more like a costume than combat attire—deep charcoal-gray, tailored just enough to hint at professionalism but loose enough to move in. A crisp white shirt clung to his frame beneath, its sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black suspenders crossed over his back and clipped neatly at his waist, holding his slacks in place with a formal rigidity that made him feel like he was starring in some noir thriller rather than heading into danger. It was sharp. Sharp enough that if he weren't so tense, he might've actually admired how he looked.

He thought about the note he left on the kitchen counter—Spending the weekend at Nate's, don't wait up. He sent Nate a heads-up text about some Ledger assignment he had to do and asked him to cover for him. Nate responded with a thumbs up and "you better not die or I'm deleting your porn stash." Typical Nate.

Becky had texted too. Hey, you doing okay? Heard you called in sick. Want me to bring anything?. He didn't answer. Couldn't. It was easier that way.

Selene tapped her chin. "Oh right—before I forget."

She pulled a sleek silver case from her satchel and laid it on the hood of the van. The case opened with a hiss, revealing an array of prototype weapons, daggers with angular curves, gloves lined with metallic filaments, sidearms with glowing etchings. Each shimmered with quiet menace.

"These are D ranked low-grade prototype tools. They help enhance Arbiter abilities," Selene explained. "Normally tailored per user. but yours is tricky, since your power's… unconventional. But browse. See what catches your eye."

Cal's gaze slid past the gadgets until it landed on a short sword nestled against dark velvet lining. It was elegant—sleek black steel with a faint cobalt sheen, runic carvings along the blade's edge, and a curved hilt wrapped in dark leather. It looked like it belonged to someone who moved fast and struck faster.

Selene saw his eyes linger. "That's Fangbite. A sharp little thing. Sharper than most forged steel on the continent. Lightweight. Deadly. Yours—if you want it."

Cal reached out, hand wrapping around the hilt. It was cold but balanced perfectly. It felt… right. "I want it."

He sheathed the blade and turned to leave when Selene handed him something small—an oval metallic device with a red button.

"Signal device," she said. "Press it and I'll know something's up. No matter where you are, I'll find you."

Cal blinked. "That fast?"

A slow, teasing grin pulled at her lips. "I'm your supervisor, Cal. I always keep tabs on my favorite plaything."

He rolled his eyes, trying not to blush again. "You're incorrigible."

"And you're adorable when flustered.", Selene quickly retorts.

She stepped back, watching as he climbed into the van. The other agents inside barely glanced at him, more focused on the mission briefing on their tablets.

Selene's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, a flicker of genuine care slipping past the teasing. "Good luck, Little Thief."

The van's engine rumbled to life. Cal took one last look at her through the tinted window before the doors sealed shut.

As they drove into the Halcroft night, toward the house of the last Masons, Cal gripped Fangbite at his side and forced down the fear rising in his throat.

He wasn't ready.

But maybe that didn't matter anymore