The afternoon sun dipped behind the rooftops, spilling long shadows across the living room floor. Ari sat at the coffee table, textbooks open but untouched. Mika sprawled across the carpet, doodling little foxes and shadowy figures in her notebook. Ever since the night before, the house felt… tight. Like the walls were holding secrets.
Kael sat near the window, quietly flipping through a book Ari didn't recognize. The cover was unmarked, old, and thick. No title, no author. It looked like something pulled from a forgotten archive, not a local bookstore.
Ari pretended to take notes, glancing up every few seconds.
Kael wasn't reading.
He was listening.
His eyes didn't track the page—they tracked the soft tremors in the air. His fingers hovered over the paper like they were sensing something invisible. Mika didn't notice, humming softly as she scribbled. But Ari did. She always did.
There it was again.
That faint hum.
Low… subdued… like something trying to disturb the world but not quite breaking through.
Ari swallowed. "Do you hear that?" she whispered to Mika.
"Hear what?"
"The humming. Like electricity."
Mika paused, head tilted. "Oh. I thought that was just in my ears again."
Ari stiffened. Again?
"How long has that been happening?"
Mika shrugged helplessly. "A few days? It's not scary. Just… weird. Like when you stand too close to a vending machine."
Ari's heart thudded. She turned sharply toward Kael—
—but Kael was already staring back. Calm. Watchful. Almost gentle.
"You two should stay inside for now," he said quietly. "Close to the house."
Ari's throat tightened. "Why?"
Kael closed the book.
When he stood, something shifted in the entire room. The air grew heavier—but not suffocating. More like gravity had thickened around him.
Mika blinked. "Um… stepdad? You look… different."
Kael offered a faint smile. "Just tired."
But Ari didn't buy that. Every line of his posture screamed tension. Preparedness.
Something was coming.
Outside, the wind picked up suddenly. A cold draft seeped through the window frames. The branches in the backyard scraped harshly against one another. Mika shivered and stood to close the curtains—
But before she could touch them, Kael raised a hand sharply.
"Leave them."
Mika froze.
Kael moved closer, his eyes scanning the backyard, the faint ripples in the air bending around his gaze. Ari felt her pulse quicken.
"Stay behind me," he murmured.
Mika gasped. "Kael… what's happening?"
Ari stepped forward. "Is it… the shadow from last night?"
Kael didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The air outside the window rippled violently—like a stone thrown into a pond, except the pond was the sky itself. A deep, resonant crack split the silence. Mika squeaked. Ari clutched the edge of the table.
Kael stepped forward, protectively blocking both girls with one arm.
The crack widened, forming a jagged line in the air—just above the garden. A tear. A fissure. A wound in reality.
Ari's breath caught. "Is that… real?"
Kael's voice was low, controlled, but unmistakably tense.
"A rift."
Mika trembled. "Rift? Like… a portal? A monster thing?!"
Kael glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening despite the danger. "Stay calm. I won't let anything touch you."
The rift pulsed. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Ari could see her breath.
Something was pressing from the other side.
Something alive.
A claw emerged first—long, thin, and black, almost liquid-looking. The creature's arm dripped shadow, its shape wavering like smoke. Then came the head—elongated, hollow-eyed, jaw splitting open far too wide.
Mika screamed and stumbled backward.
Ari could barely move. Her mind raced, trying to process, to deny—but she couldn't. The thing was real. The shadows weren't imagination. Kael had been preparing for this.
The creature stepped fully into the world. Its body was an amalgamation of smoke and bone, shifting between forms like it wasn't built for this reality.
It screeched—a piercing, distorted sound that rattled the windows.
Kael didn't flinch.
He stepped forward.
Ari grabbed Mika, pulling her toward the wall. "Stay low! Don't look directly at it!"
Mika, shaking, hid her face in Ari's shoulder.
Kael exhaled slowly, as though releasing a held breath.
When he moved, the air rippled.
No blur. No rush. Just instantaneous.
One moment he stood before them.
The next, he was in the garden.
The creature lunged.
Kael raised a hand—and shadows bent around his fingers, condensing into a black, shimmering chain that wrapped around the creature's neck in a snapping motion.
The monster thrashed, shrieking, clawing at the binding. The sound tore through the yard like ripping metal. Ari covered Mika's ears. Her own heartbeat pounded loud enough to drown out everything else.
Kael's expression remained eerily calm.
"You shouldn't have come through," he said softly, almost pitying.
The chain tightened.
The creature convulsed—
—and dissolved into smoke.
The rift pulsed violently, reacting to the creature's destruction. Kael turned toward it, lifting his free hand. Shadow coiled around his fingers, weaving into a symbol that glowed a faint silver-black.
He pressed his palm against the tear.
The rift resisted—shuddering, groaning as if alive.
Then, with a final distorted crack, it sealed shut.
The backyard fell silent.
Ari realized she'd been holding her breath. She gasped and let out a shaky exhale.
Kael stood there, motionless, the last trace of shadow fading from his hands. His shoulders rose and fell once. Twice. Then he straightened.
When he turned back to look at them, he was… human again. Just a man. Calm. Controlled.
But Ari couldn't unsee it now. And she knew Mika couldn't either.
Kael stepped into the house, closing the door behind him.
Mika clung to Ari, crying silently.
Ari forced her voice steady. "Kael… what was that?"
He didn't answer immediately. He knelt in front of them, his expression gentle but tired. So tired it scared her.
"You two weren't supposed to see that," he said quietly.
Ari shook her head. "Well we did. And we deserve the truth."
Mika sobbed. "It was a monster! It was gonna eat us!"
Kael reached out, placing a hand on Mika's head. "It wasn't here for you," he said softly. "It was here for me."
Ari froze. "Why… you?"
Kael's eyes darkened—not with anger, but with old memories. Heavy ones.
"There are things in this world," he said slowly, "that don't belong in it. I'm… someone who deals with those things."
Ari swallowed. "A hunter."
Kael nodded once. "Yes."
"A god-level hunter?" Ari whispered.
Kael's silence answered her.
Mika hiccuped. "A-are more monsters coming?"
Kael hesitated—just a heartbeat, but Ari caught it.
"Yes," he finally admitted. "But I'll protect you both. Always."
That was supposed to make her feel safe.
But instead, Ari felt the world shift beneath her feet.
Because the truth wasn't comforting.
It was terrifying.
And it meant their stepdad's past wasn't just complicated.
It was coming for them.