The silence in the basement was a fragile thing, spun from chalk dust and shared sorrow. It was shattered by the sound of the door creaking open. Every one of them jumped.
Alastor was on his feet in an instant, a low growl rumbling in his chest, his body positioned between the newcomers and the rest of the group. The warrior was back, his amber eyes sharp and dangerous.
Leo slipped inside, his face pale and slick with a fine sheen of sweat. He carried two bulging plastic bags that smelled of grease and salt. He quickly bolted the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as if his legs might give way.
"It's bad out there," he breathed, his voice tight. He dropped the bags on a clear spot on the floor. "I got burgers. And a first-aid kit from a 24-hour pharmacy." He looked at Alastor, who was still poised for a fight. "It's just me."
Maya placed a calming hand on Alastor's armoured forearm. The muscle beneath was like coiled steel. "Friend," she said, pointing to Leo. "Leo. Food."
The word 'food' seemed to register. The tension in Alastor's frame eased slightly, though his watchful gaze didn't leave Leo. He watched with intense curiosity as Leo unpacked the bags, producing wrapped burgers, paper cartons of fries, and bottled water. The scents of cooked meat and fried potatoes filled the stale air, a bizarrely normal aroma in their utterly abnormal situation.
Jax fell on the food like a starving man, but Maya's appetite had vanished. "How bad, Leo?"
Leo took a long swig of water before answering. "Our faces are on every news channel, Maya. Not just the police bands. The major networks. It's a full-scale manhunt." He avoided looking at Alastor. "They're not calling us bioterrorists anymore. Now it's 'cultists.' They're saying we're part of a dangerous, apocalyptic sect that was attempting a ritual at the site. That the 'tremor' was us trying to summon something."
"Summon something?" Chloe whispered, her face ashen. "But... we're archaeologists."
"Not according to them," Leo said grimly. "They've dug up every weird paper Chloe ever wrote, every off-grid tech project Jax ever bragged about online. They're painting a picture of unstable, delusional students seduced by the occult. It's a better story."
"It explains the 'paranormal' events without having to admit what really happened. It makes us look crazy and dangerous, which justifies any means necessary to bring us in."
The clever, insidious cruelty of it settled over the room. Thorne wasn't just chasing them; he was erasing their credibility, their very identities. He was making sure that if they were ever caught, or if they ever tried to tell the truth, no one would ever believe them.
"They've got checkpoints on the major bridges and tunnels," Leo continued, his voice dropping. "I saw them. Cops and... others. Men in unmarked black windbreakers. Pandora. They're stopping cars, checking IDs. The net is closing. We're rats in a shrinking cage."
Jax had stopped eating, a half-eaten burger forgotten in his hand. "So that's it? We're trapped? We just wait down here until we run out of food or they kick the door in?"
"No," Maya said, her voice cutting through the despair. She looked at Alastor, who was cautiously unwrapping a burger, his nose wrinkling at the smell of processed cheese and pickles. He looked so profoundly out of place, a primordial king holding a fast-food sandwich. "We don't wait." She turned to Jax. "You said you were monitoring their chatter. Is there any pattern? Are they searching specific areas?"
Jax wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and scooted back to his laptop. "Yeah, hang on."
His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up a map of the city dotted with red markers. "Most of their activity is concentrated downtown, near the site, and around the transportation hubs. But..." He zoomed in on a section of the map.
"I'm picking up a new, encrypted frequency. It's not Pandora. The signal is... different. Cleaner. Older, somehow. It's using terms like 'the anomaly' and 'the source of the dissonance.' They're triangulating, but not from the city's cell towers. It's like they're using the... the ley lines or something. It's weird."
A fresh chill, different from the fear of Pandora, trickled down Maya's spine. "A different group?"
"Who else is there?" Leo asked, his voice hollow.
Chloe, who had been quiet, hugging her knees, looked up. Her eyes were wide, not with terror, but with a dawning, horrified recognition. "The Veiled Court," she whispered.
The name landed in the room with the weight of a tombstone.
"The what?" Jax asked.
"It's a myth," Chloe said, her voice trembling. "A story occultists tell. A hidden society of... things. Beings that have lived alongside humanity for centuries, hiding in the shadows. The Fae, were-creatures, ancient spirits... they're supposed to be governed by a secret council that keeps them hidden, that maintains the 'Veil' between their world and ours."
She looked from Jax's map to Alastor. "If the stories are true... then his awakening, the power he unleashed... it wouldn't just be a secret from humans. It would be a five-alarm fire for every supernatural creature in the city. They'd feel it. They'd see it as a threat to their entire way of life."
The implications unfolded in Maya's mind, each one more terrifying than the last. They weren't just being hunted by one powerful, secretive organization. They were caught in the crossfire between two.
"So let me get this straight," Jax said, his voice rising in panic. "On one side, we've got a government death squad that wants to dissect us and our friend here. And on the other, we've got a bunch of actual monsters who probably see us as the noisy neighbors who just moved a meth lab in next door? Is that the situation?"
Before anyone could answer, Alastor, who had been listening to the tense exchange with a deepening frown, suddenly stiffened. He dropped his burger, his head cocked, his entire body focused like a radar dish. He wasn't looking at the door. He was looking up, towards the grimy window.
A low, guttural word escaped his lips, a term from his own language that needed no translation. A warning.
"What is it?" Maya asked, her heart seizing.
He pointed to the window, then made a sharp, slashing motion across his throat. Danger.
Jax frantically typed, his eyes wide. "The new signal... it's spiking. It's close. Really close. They're not triangulating anymore. They've found us."
The reality of their predicament snapped into a horrifying new focus. They were cornered. Pandora was sealing the city shut, turning it into a prison. And now, a second, unknown hunter was at the door.
Leo stood up, his face a mask of grim resolve. "We can't stay here. They'll have us surrounded in minutes."
"And go where?" Jax demanded, his voice cracking. "There's no way out!"
Alastor rose to his full height. The confusion and grief were gone, burned away by the immediate threat. He looked at Maya, his eyes holding a fierce, ancient light. He pointed to himself, then to the door, then made a fist. The meaning was clear. I will fight.
"No," Maya said, the word sharp. She looked at her friends-the terrified tech genius, the shattered empath, the logical historian pushed beyond the limits of his logic. And the last Hound-Keeper, ready to die for them. They were all she had.
"We don't fight," she said, her voice low and steady, forcing a calm she didn't feel. "We run. Together." She looked at Jax. "Can you scramble their signal? Buy us time? Even a few minutes?"
Jax nodded, his fingers already flying. "I can try. I'll throw every piece of digital chaff I have at them. But it's just a delay."
"A delay is all we need," Maya said. She started shoving the remaining food and water into their bags. "Leo, what's the most illogical, stupid, impossible direction for us to go? The one place they'd never expect fugitives to run?"
Leo's mind whirred, his eyes darting as he mentally mapped the city. A slow, grim smile touched his lips. "The financial district. The Stock Exchange. It's a fortress of security, cameras everywhere. It's the last place anyone would hide."
"Perfect," Maya said. "We'll get lost in the crowd. Find another hole." She turned to Alastor. She pointed to the bags of food, then to him, then to the door. "We. Go. Now."
He understood. He gave a single, sharp nod. The lost, homesick man was gone. The warrior was back.
As they gathered their meager belongings, preparing to flee their temporary sanctuary, Maya felt the net tightening not just around the city, but around her own heart. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and hunted by forces they could barely comprehend. But as she looked at the determined set of Alastor's jaw and the fragile, terrified resolve on her friends' faces, she knew one thing for certain.
They were not going to make it easy.