The silence in the alley was a living thing, thick with the ghost of the Veiled Court's threat. It was a different quality of fear than the one Pandora inspired-colder, older, rooted in a reality they were only just beginning to glimpse. The sounds of the financial district, so close yet feeling a world away, were a mocking reminder of a life that was no longer theirs.
"We can't stay here," Leo said, his voice a low, urgent rasp. He was already scanning the alley for exits, his historian's mind now fully repurposed for survival. "They know where we are. They'll be back, and next time they won't be making offers."
"Go where? There is nowhere we can go or perhaps run to" Jax's voice was shrill with panic. He gestured wildly towards the street. "Pandora's out there turning the city inside out! And now we've got a bunch of... of ice-elves or whatever who want to 'humanely terminate' our only ticket out of this mess!" He shot a frantic look at Alastor, who stood like a statue, his hooded gaze still fixed on the spot where the Court had vanished.
"He's not a ticket, Jax," Maya said, her tone sharp enough to cut through his hysteria. She moved to stand beside Alastor, a deliberate act of solidarity. "He's a person. And we're not leaving him."
"So what's the plan, Maya?" Jax fired back, his face flushed. "Because from where I'm standing, the plan seems to be 'get chased until we die!'"
"The plan," a new, weary voice cut in from the alley's entrance, "is to not be where they're looking."
They all spun around. Leaning against the brick wall, looking like she'd just finished a double shift, was Detective Maria Reyes.
She was in civilian clothes-jeans and a leather jacket-but her posture was all cop. Her eyes, dark and impossibly tired, swept over the scene: the four terrified interns, and the hulking, anachronistic figure of Alastor, who immediately shifted into a defensive stance, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
"Easy, big guy," Reyes said, holding up her hands, palms out. She didn't look scared. She looked... resigned. "If I was here to arrest you, I wouldn't be alone."
"How did you find us?" Leo demanded, stepping in front of Chloe.
Reyes gave a humorless smirk. "I'm a detective. I detect. Also, Henderson's digital 'ghosting' is good, but it's not perfect. You left a ripple. And I've been... monitoring certain frequencies since your Professor disappeared."
Her gaze settled on Alastor, taking in the ancient armor, the powerful build, the feral intelligence in his eyes. She didn't flinch. "So. This is the 'chemical weapon.' You kids really know how to pick a research project."
"What do you want, Detective?" Maya asked, her voice cold. She trusted no one.
"I want to know why a federal black-budget agency has taken over my city," Reyes said, her voice hardening. "I want to know why they're flagging evidence, threatening witnesses, and running a propaganda campaign that would make a dictator blush. And I have a feeling you're the only ones who can give me answers." She nodded towards Alastor. "Starting with him."
Alastor, sensing he was the topic of discussion, took a step forward. He looked from Reyes's tired face to Maya's tense one. He could feel the tension, the fragile trust being weighed. He pointed at Reyes, then looked at Maya, a question in his eyes.
"She's... police," Maya said, struggling for a concept he might understand. She mimed holding a badge. "Law."
Alastor's eyes narrowed. He understood authority. He pointed at her, then made a gesture of binding his wrists together.
"No," Maya said firmly. "Not enemy. Maybe... friend." The word felt dangerous, a gamble with stakes they couldn't afford to lose.
Reyes watched the exchange, her detective's mind cataloging every nuance. "He doesn't speak English."
"He's learning," Chloe said softly, from behind Leo. "And he understands more than you think."
Reyes let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders slumping. "Look. I can't protect you from Pandora. They're playing a whole different game, with rules I don't know. But I have access to things you don't. Police files. Traffic cam feeds-the ones they haven't scrubbed yet. I can be your eyes and ears on the outside."
"And in return?" Leo asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
"In return, you tell me the truth," she said, her gaze intense. "The real truth. Not this 'cultist' garbage. What is he? Where did he come from? And what the hell is Thorne really after?"
It was a devil's bargain. Trust was a currency they were running dangerously low on. Bringing a cop into their confidence, even a seemingly sympathetic one, was a monumental risk. But Reyes was right. They were blind, trapped in a shrinking box. They needed a window to the outside world.
Maya looked at her friends. Jax gave a tiny, desperate nod. He wanted the intel. Leo's expression was grim, but he too inclined his head slightly. He saw the tactical advantage. Chloe just looked scared, but she didn't object.
The decision rested with her. She turned to Alastor. He was watching her, his fate, once again, in her hands. She saw the weight of millennia in his eyes, but also a flicker of something new-a trust in her. She couldn't betray that.
She turned back to Reyes. "The truth is... big. And it's going to break your brain."
Reyes almost smiled. "Lady, my brain has been broken since I saw the security footage from that dig site. Try me."
So, right there in the grimy alley, with the distant sounds of commerce and normalcy as a backdrop, they told her. It came out in a jumbled, frantic rush. Maya spoke of the slab, the hum, the feeling of a conscious presence.
Leo showed her the bestiary page on his cracked tablet, explaining the myth of the Hound-Keepers. Jax described the energy signatures, the impossible technology. Chloe, her voice trembling, spoke of the pain, the loneliness, the "current" of his life force.
And they told her about the Veiled Court.
Reyes listened without interruption, her face a carefully neutral mask. When they finished, the alley was silent again. She looked at Alastor, a new, profound understanding in her eyes.
"So," she said finally, her voice quiet. "Ancient warrior. Magical hellhound spirit. Secret government agency. And a hidden society of monsters. You guys have been busy."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Okay. This is... a lot. But it fits the crazy pieces better than any official story." She looked at Alastor. "And you. You're just a soldier who woke up on the wrong side of history."
Alastor, catching the tone if not the words, gave a single, solemn nod.
"Thorne is moving your Professor to a black-site facility tonight," Reyes said, her voice all business again. "Upstate. If you want to get him back, that's your window. It's a huge risk. It's practically a suicide mission."
"We have to try," Maya said immediately. "He's in this because of us."
"Then I'll get you the route, the convoy details, the security schedule," Reyes said. "But that's all I can do. I can't go with you. My involvement ends here. You get caught, you never saw me."
It was a cold, hard line, but it was fair.
"Thank you," Maya said, the words feeling inadequate.
Reyes gave a curt nod. "Don't thank me yet. I'm probably just helping you get yourselves killed." She pulled a cheap, unregistered burner phone from her pocket and tossed it to Leo. "My number is the only one in there. Use it once. For the convoy details. Then destroy it."
She turned to leave, then paused, looking back at Alastor one last time. A strange expression crossed her face-not fear, not disgust, but a kind of weary respect.
"Good luck, big guy," she said. "You too, kids."
And then she was gone, melting into the foot traffic on the street, just another face in the crowd.
They were alone again, but the world felt different. They had an ally, however limited. They had a target. A goal beyond mere survival.
Jax let out a shaky breath. "So. We're really doing this? We're storming a secret government prison?"
Leo's jaw was set. "We're rescuing our Professor. It's the only logical move."
Chloe looked at Alastor, a fragile hope in her eyes. "He'll help. Won't he?"
Alastor, sensing the shift in mood, the new sense of purpose, looked at Maya. She pointed in the direction Reyes had gone, then mimed driving a vehicle, then made a gesture of breaking chains.
We go. We free the captured one.
Understanding dawned in his eyes. A rescue mission. A noble cause. A warrior's purpose. He placed his fist over his heart and gave a sharp, decisive nod.
The fear was still there, a constant, cold companion. But it was now joined by something else: a plan. A dangerous, likely foolish, but tangible plan. They were no longer just running. They were about to strike back. The devil's bargain was struck, and the dice were in the air.