Dean remained in the room with Hope and Larah. The nurses were running tests on the child. Dean and the others had already been examined—aside from their wounds and general exhaustion, nothing unusual had been detected.
But as the nurses examined Hope, Larah stayed close. She dreaded that they might find something—something unnatural. After all, Hope had been born from a woman in the process of turning into a ghoul. The child had shown no signs of infection, but perhaps… she was an immune one.
Before leaving with Sark and Jessie, Sir Krus had briefed the group about immune ones. Apparently, they had immune individuals among their own ranks—but these immune ones were different. Dean had the option to follow, but he chose to remain. He stepped beside Larah and gently placed his arm over her delicate shoulders. Larah tilted her head to the side, resting it softly against Dean's arm.
'Thank you,' she whispered. 'Thank you for staying.'
'Where else would I be but here?' he said. 'It's okay—everything will be fine. Still, it's strange… they're testing her longer than they tested any of us.' And it got even stranger. Four soldiers entered the room. One of them was carrying a vial of blood. It looked normal—but Dean had a bad feeling. He stepped forward.
'What's the blood for?' The nurse didn't answer and simply reached for the vial. Dean lunged—but the other three soldiers blocked him. They all had to hold him down, their red faces and bulging veins showing the effort it took to pin Dean to the floor.
'Larah! Don't let her get near Hope with that blood!' The nurse hurried toward the child, who was peacefully asleep beneath a crisp white blanket. Larah sprang into action. She grabbed the nurse by her hair and yanked her back. The nurse retaliated, but in doing so misjudged her own strength and crushed the vial. Blood splattered and spilled over Hope.
And then it happened. Hope's skin absorbed the blood. Before anyone could react, a woman entered the room. She wore a wide grin. Her long white hair framed a pale, predatory face. Her eyes were red—like they had swallowed blood—and her teeth were far too sharp. Her name was Nicole. And she didn't waste time.
'Seems like she's an immune one too.' she said with a smirk. Dean finally broke free of the soldiers. He charged toward Hope—but in a blink, Nicole stood before the child. She caught Dean by the throat and lifted him from the floor. Larah didn't hesitate. She knocked the nurse to the ground, scooped Hope into her arms, and backed away.
'Are you one of them?' she demanded. 'Are you a monster?' Nicole turned toward her and smiled.
'Well… in some ways, yes. But I'm no darkborn. And no brightborn either. You see, people think immune ones are untouched by infection—but that's a lie. They were infected. The energy of a darkborn runs through their veins. Your child is immune—but that also means she's possessed by a darkborn. Well, ina different way though.' Dean and Larah stood frozen.
Nicole continued, 'Ever seen a white ghoul? That's the same thing, only it's the work of a brightborn. Let me keep it simple. I used to be an immune one too—possessed by a darkborn. But we figured out how to kill the darkborn while keeping the power. Same goes for brightborns. Two advantages: first, we're no longer possessed. You never know what a darkborn might do. Second—we're not immune ones anymore. We're something... else.'
She dropped Dean. He crumpled to the floor, nearly collapsing. Larah ran to his aid. Nicole didn't even blink.
'The darkborns and brightborns are at war. They want to bring their battle to Earth. But to do that, they need hosts—people like us.' Dean struggled to his feet.
'How do you know all this?!'
'I told you—I was an immune one. My darkborn was talkative. But I hated being possessed, so I got rid of her. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me again.'
Meanwhile
Sark and Jessie had gathered with military personnel. Some of them felt... different. The air around them didn't feel human. They stood around a table spread with a world map. Certain regions were marked in red.
Sir Krus stood next to Sark, who asked, 'These strange soldiers—are they the ones who went through the operation? Can anyone do it?'
'Only immune ones,' Krus replied. 'And even then, the operation can fail. That can mean death—or no change at all.' Their conversation ended abruptly. The commander arrived.
He was massive—muscle-bound, scarred, wild black hair and beard. His eyes shone a deep, stormy grey. His very presence made it harder to breathe. He stopped in front of Sark and Jessie, with only the table between them. When he spoke, his voice was rough, deep, and commanding:
'I'm Commander Nootra. Weird name, right? Even weirder past. Anyway—I've heard of you and your friends.' Sark met his eyes without flinching.
'I assume you were once an immune one too?'
'You're right. And that stare—you're a fighter. Strong. I'm not the only one with history here.' Jessie glanced at Sark, who gave nothing away. Nootra leaned over the map and continued:
'We've found a way to stop all of this. The darkborns. The brightborns. Their damn ghouls. Even the priests. We'll kill them all. Even if we have to become monsters ourselves.'
Elsewhere,
In the city where Dean had once met Sark and Larah, a horde of ghouls had gathered. At the center stood two people. The first was Nighyel, fire engulfing her hands. The second… was John. He looked exactly as he had before he died. However, there was no life in his eyes. Nighyel kissed his cheek. He remained silent, no reaction.
'Smile,' she said. And he did. Nighyel turned her gaze north—toward Behills Hospital.
That would be their next destination. And her army of ghouls was ready for the next all-you-can-eat massacre.