The clink of plates sounded too loud, fragile, like glass that might fracture with the slightest pressure.
The dining room seemed to hold its breath,with only the fragile sound of clicking plates.
Stone and Ben sat across from each other, a simple meal between them. Cinnamon and roast lingered in the air.
"Man," Ben said, leaning back, grin tugging at the edges of his face.
"That last round… Crimson Viper nearly had me before I realized what hit me,I swear for a second I thought I was done for."
Stone tore a piece of bread, eyes sharp, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
"Yeah. And yet you somehow countered at the last second …not gonna lie I counted you dead,like seriously. "
Ben's glare was playful, but there was nothing behind the joke.
"Hey, I was—uh—distracting them."
Stone let the word hang. Teamwork. Hollow, familiar, heavier than it sounded. Laughter slipped past their mouths, light, easy—but beneath it, a taut cord hummed, ready to snap.
Ben shifted, hand brushing the back of his neck. "Bathroom. Give me a sec."
Stone nodded, still riding the aftershocks of the match, unaware of the shadow inching closer.
The door closed softly.
Stone's mother remained seated, quiet, eyes sharp and deliberate.
"Stone," she whispered, calm and steady, voice like a blade pressed against skin.
"How long have you known Ben. "
Stone waved her concern aside. "Come on Mom. You worry too much. Ben's my best friend,he's just wierd,too wierd even for me,most times. "
Her hand reached across the table, brushing his. Fragile and insistent. "I'm just saying that you should be careful,you know what we're, and what he is,just don't lose sight of how far apart our wolds are."
Stone's patience thinned and brows edged. "And why do you get to judge him?,He's my friend and I'm his so don't say things like you have some bad feeling about him,I'm the one whi knows him."
Her gaze sharpened. "You're being stupid Stone,he's a demon hunter and we're demonsso what makes you think you can trust him."
The air grew heavy and wet with tension growing unbearable between them, curling like smoke before a storm.
Stone stood, chair scraping the floor in loud protest.
"Goodnight."
He left without another word,heading to his room an slamming the door behind him.
But right after he did,he heard something drop on the floor,not in his room but from he'd just come from.
Stone's chest tightened something cold blooming inside his heart.
He ran.
His mother lay on the floor, delicate as paper, blood spreading beneath her like ink in water. Her chest rose in shallow, ragged breaths.
Stone dropped beside her, hands trembling, gripping the edges of her frailty. "Mom!" His voice cracked, raw and ragged.
Green eyes flickered up at him, dimming, life slipping. "Stone…" she whispered.
A faint smile trembled through pain.
"Run…"
Stone's gaze snapped toward the source of the sound.
Ben stood there. Too tall. Too calm. Too still.
A sword in his hand, slick and dark, catching the candlelight like water.
Stone's chest heaved. A surge of something green and hot coiled inside him, sharp and unyielding. He lunged—but the world spun. Legs betrayed him.
Darkness crept in at the edges.
Ben knelt, serene, a calm that was more venom than peace.
"Poison," he said quietly.
Stone's vision blurred.green light curling in his veins.