Sins of the Firstborn

Location: Tavara – Victorion Estate

Rain poured against the windowpanes as Damien stood in his study, eyes fixed on the flames flickering in the hearth. Behind him, the storm outside mirrored the unease building in his chest. The warmth of the room did little to melt the chill settling in his bones.

Nora entered quietly, carrying a leather-bound file. Her brows were furrowed, lips pressed in a firm line. She had that look—the one she wore when the world shifted beneath them.

"She's awake, Damien," she said, placing the file on his desk. "The Firstborn."

Damien turned slowly. His expression didn't change, but something darkened behind his eyes.

"You're sure?" His voice was low. Steady. Controlled.

Nora nodded. "The encrypted channels lit up an hour ago. They used the old Dominion code. Your father warned this might happen."

He opened the file, eyes scanning the faded images—some from ancient archives, others taken from recent satellite captures. The woman in them looked untouched by time. Ethereal. Dangerous.

"Althea…" Damien whispered.

Nora's gaze narrowed. "You knew her."

He nodded, hesitating only slightly. "She was… part of my training. Before the purge. Before everything changed."

Nora's voice dropped. "Did you love her?"

The silence stretched a little too long before he answered. "I thought I did. But that was before I understood what she truly was."

"And now?"

"Now," Damien said, closing the file, "she's a weapon. One forged by the Council. If she's here, it means they've stopped watching and started moving."

"What do we do?"

Damien looked up, the firelight catching the hard line of his jaw. "We don't run. We remind them that I'm not the boy they left behind."

Outside, the rain thickened, and thunder cracked across the sky. A flash of lightning lit up the horizon—briefly revealing a cloaked figure watching the estate from the treeline.

She didn't blink. She didn't breathe.

Althea had returned.