The quiet, suffocating darkness of the apartment was broken only by the desperate, frantic movements of Skippy. The small cybernetic snake slithered at breakneck speed, weaving through the dim, narrow hallway, past old, faded photos that lined the cracked walls. Each frozen memory a cruel mockery of the present.


    There, in the dim glow of artificial light, was Kay, smiling, laughing as a toddler in Leya’s arms, his face radiant with innocence. A birthday cake with half-melted candles, his tiny hands grasping at Leya’s cheeks, the two of them laughing, happy, content.


    Now? That joy was a ghost.


    Skippy’s metallic body pulsed, shifting, reshaping mid-motion. As it reached the end of the hallway, it coalesced into its final form, a cosmic cybernetic phoenix, its gleaming wings flaring open in a burst of violet embers.


    And then—It screamed. A sharp, piercing cry, cutting through the heavy silence like a dagger through flesh.


    The room was a mess. Old clothes were strewn across the floor, tangled with half-empty bottles of cheap liquor. The scent of stale alcohol and exhaustion clung to the air, mixing with the faintest traces of acidic rain from when she had stumbled in hours ago.


    Her nightstand was cluttered, a framed photo of Deacon lay facedown, as if she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. And atop her massive king-sized bed, wrapped in twisted, tear-soaked sheets, lay Leya. The exhaustion from a day of regret, of drinking, of loss had finally pulled her into sleep, a restless, shallow abyss, her face still damp with the evidence of recent sobbing.


    Until—Skippy screeched. Leya jolted upright, her breath ragged, uneven, her eyes darting wildly.


    Her heart slammed against her ribs, disoriented by the sudden sound. Her ears twitched, still adjusting, still trying to parse what was real and what was just another nightmare.


    And then she saw it. A strange, glowing bird, hovering midair, its mechanical feathers shedding violet light that danced along the walls.


    “What the hell?!” she snarled, her voice hoarse, angry.


    Skippy ignored her completely, flapping wildly before darting toward the door, cawing again.


    Frantic. Desperate. Urging.


    Leya rubbed her temples in irritation as she walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Her mind still groggy as she fought off the weight of exhaustion and alcohol in her system. Her ears flicked in irritation.


    “This better be good, or I swear I’ll—” But she didn’t finish. Because suddenly, Skippy stopped flapping.


    Stopped moving. And simply hovered outside Kay’s door.


    And then, the realization hit. Leya’s body tensed, her mind catching up in an instant.


    She stumbled forward, her breath hitching violently as she reached for the doorknob, her hand trembling, her claws digging into the metal. It wouldn’t budge.


    Her chest tightened, ice flooding her veins as her thoughts races. It’s locked!


    Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, panic surging like wildfire through her veins. A second later—The door was gone.


    With a guttural scream, she threw her full inhuman strength into it, sending the heavy metal door flying off its hinges, crashing into the bedroom wall with a sickening boom that rattled the entire apartment.


    “Kay!” Her voice broke, frantic, desperate, raw. The panic in her chest morphed into something worse as she rushed inside, scanning the room in a wild frenzy.


    And then—Her world fell apart. Her breath caught in her throat, the ground beneath her feet collapsing into nothingness.


    She saw him. Lying motionless in a dark crimson pool, his small body still, too still.


    His fur drenched in blood, his tiny fingers slightly curled, as if he had been reaching for someone who never came. His mouth was slightly open, his lips stained red, the remnants of his final breath lingering in the air like a whisper of what once was.


    His lifeless eyes, once filled with curiosity, with fear, with quiet hope, now stared at nothing. Leya’s legs nearly gave out beneath her.


    This isn’t real. It couldn’t be real.


    She stood there, her vision blurred by the flood of hot, burning tears, her mind unable to process, to comprehend, to accept. Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her chest tightening so painfully it felt like her ribs were breaking.


    “No…” A small, pitiful whimper of denial.


    Then—a step forward. Then another. And another.


    And then she collapsed to her knees beside him, gathering his tiny, lifeless body into her trembling arms. The warmth was already fading from him.


    His fragile frame limp, broken, gone. A horrible, aching sob tore through her throat as she clutched him tighter, her body shaking violently.


    “No, no, no, no—please, no!” Her voice cracked, shattered, her mind spiraling into pure, unfiltered agony.


    She rocked back and forth, her ears pinned back, her claws digging into his back as if holding him tighter would somehow pull him back from the abyss. But there was nothing.


    No heartbeat. No warmth. No breath. Just silence. Just cold.


    Her screams rang throughout the apartment, a howl of grief so raw, so animalistic, it didn’t even sound human anymore. Her body shook, her lungs burning, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.


    And still—she held onto him. Held onto what was left of him.


    As if she could somehow shield him from the reality she refused to face. The reality that she had failed him.


    That her baby was gone. That she would never, never, see him smile again.


    A celestial forest stretched endlessly in every direction, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Towering trees, their trunks ancient and wise, reached up into a sky that seemed to blend into an infinite ocean of swirling stars.


    From their massive, outstretched branches, glowing leaves drifted down like embers from a dying fire, coating the ground in a sea of luminescent energy. The very air shimmered with warmth, a hum of gentle spiritual energy vibrating beneath the surface, like a pulse that connected all things.


    Despite the breathtaking beauty surrounding him, Kay lay still, his small form curled up in the bed of glowing leaves. His crimson eyes fluttered open, hazy at first, his vision adjusting to the otherworldly light. The warmth of the afterlife embraced him, yet his body felt heavy, almost numb.


    Slowly, he sat upright, his ears flicking slightly as he took in his surroundings. “Where… am I?”


    His voice, though barely above a whisper, echoed softly, as if the forest itself was listening. Then—A voice. Gentle. Familiar. Calling his name. “Kay?”


    Kay’s breath caught in his throat. His entire body tensed as he slowly turned toward the voice, his heart pounding so violently that he swore he could hear it in the silence. And there, standing among the falling celestial leaves, was Deacon.


    For a moment, Kay couldn’t breathe. The man before him, the father he had never known, was exactly as he had seen in old, grainy photos. A chimera hybrid, a mix of rabbit and cat, his feline-shaped ears, tall and alert, twitched ever so slightly. His fur, a blend of light brown, white, and black, was just as Kay had imagined it.


    But his uniform, the unmistakable dark blue of the police force, was riddled with bullet holes and bloodstains, some of which weren’t even his own. A tragic testament to his final moments.


    Deacon’s golden eyes softened as he gave a small, forced smile. “It’s me, son.”


    Kay’s lips trembled, his mind racing too fast to process what he was seeing. What he was feeling.


    He had spent his entire life staring at photographs, trying to imagine what it would feel like to stand before his father, to speak to him, to hear his voice. But no fantasy had ever come close to this moment.


    “D-Dad?” Kay uttered in disbelief with wide eyes. Deacon nodded somberly.


    Kay’s entire body felt light and heavy all at once, his breath coming in shaky gasps. This couldn’t be real.


    Deacon took a slow step forward, chuckling weakly. “Though, I was hoping you wouldn’t be here so soon.”


    Kay blinked, his mind struggling to comprehend the words. “…Mom said you left,” Kay murmured, his voice barely above a breath. “How are you…”


    His crimson gaze dropped, landing on the countless bloody holes littering his father’s uniform. Deacon’s somber expression tightened, his jaw clenching slightly as he knelt in front of Kay.


    He hesitated. Then, softly spoke. “Listen, Kay… I—” His voice caught. He swallowed hard before trying again.


    “I passed away a long time ago. Do you understand?”


    Kay nodded slowly, his body going still. A few moments of silence stretched between them before Kay’s lips parted again.


    “W-what happened to you? Why did Mom lie?”


    Deacon’s golden eyes glossed over, his gaze distant as if the memories themselves weighed too heavy.


    “Kay…” He took a slow, deliberate breath before speaking. “There are bad people in this world. People who hurt others for even the littlest of things.”


    His voice shook slightly as he closed his eyes, the weight of his past pressing down on his shoulders. “Your mom just wanted to protect you.”


    Kay’s crimson eyes widened, a flicker of anger flashing through them. His fingers brushed the faint bruise still lingering on his cheek, a reminder of his mother’s rage.


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    “P-protect me?” His voice wavered, rising with raw emotion and pain. “She doesn’t even care!”


    Deacon winced, but Kay wasn’t done. “All she ever did was yell at me and hit me!”


    His voice cracked. His chest heaved with every choked sob, every ounce of pain he had buried deep inside now unraveling all at once.


    Deacon reached out, his eyes pleading. “Kay, listen to me—”


    “How can you say she wanted to protect me when she didn’t even notice me dying?!”


    Kay’s entire body shook, his breaths coming in ragged, broken gasps as he took a step back, away from his father. Deacon’s eyes darkened with sorrow. His ears flicked slightly, but he said nothing.


    Because he knew. He knew Kay was right. She hadn’t noticed.


    She hadn’t noticed the way he was wasting away, the way his body grew colder, the way he had been slowly dying before her very eyes.


    Kay’s legs finally gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto his knees in the glowing leaves.


    His small hands clenched into fists, trembling violently as the words spilled from his lips like shattered glass. “She probably hasn’t even noticed yet…”


    His voice was so soft, so fragile, barely above a whisper. But then—A bitter, broken laugh tore from his throat.


    “She’ll probably be glad I’m gone, won’t she?” His ears drooped, his crimson eyes glossed over, his entire body trembling as he sobbed into the glowing leaves below.


    “I was just a burden on everyone…” The words were so quiet, so filled with aching, gut-wrenching despair, that they barely left his lips.


    But Deacon heard them. And his heart shattered.


    For the first time since his death, Deacon felt helpless. His son, his baby boy, had spent his entire life believing he was unloved.


    Believing that his own mother didn’t want him.


    Believing that he was a mistake. The pain in Deacon’s chest was unbearable.


    His vision blurred with unshed tears, his hands trembling as he slowly reached out, wrapping his warm, calloused arms around Kay’s trembling form.


    And, for the first time in his short life, Kay felt the warmth of his father’s embrace. And it broke him all over again.


    Kay sobs harder, burying his face into Deacon’s chest, his small fingers clutching desperately at his uniform as if terrified he would disappear too.


    Deacon’s arms tightened, his own breath shaky, uneven as he gently rocked his son back and forth. “You’re not a burden, Kay.”


    His voice trembled, raw with pain and love. “You were never a burden.”


    And Kay cried and cried, grieving for the life he had lost, for the love he had never felt, for the future he had never been given. And all Deacon could do was hold him. Hold him, as the glowing leaves of the afterlife fell around them, whispering secrets of a world he had left behind.


    Deacon held Kay close, his strong arms wrapped around the fragile boy, rocking him gently as if trying to cradle away all the years of pain. Kay’s sobs had softened, turning into weak sniffles as his small hands clung desperately to his father’s uniform.


    The warmth, the comfort, the feeling of finally being held, finally being loved, made every broken piece of his heart ache even more. But then, slowly, the rocking stopped.


    Deacon sighed softly, a mixture of sadness and deep, unwavering love filling his golden eyes as he gently cupped Kay’s cheek. “You know, I’m glad I got to meet you, son.”


    Kay blinked, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at him. “You’re a lot like your mom.”


    Kay furrowed his brows, confusion flickering in his crimson eyes. “What? What do you mean?”


    Before Deacon could answer, the world around them shifted. Kay’s breath caught in his throat as he looked around, his stomach twisting into a knot.


    The towering celestial trees that had once stretched into infinity began to dissolve. The glowing leaves that had blanketed the ground faded into nothingness, leaving behind an eerie, encroaching whiteness that swallowed everything in sight.


    Kay’s chest tightened. “No…” He whispered, his voice trembling as he whipped his head back toward his father.


    And that’s when he saw it, Deacon’s eyes were filled with tears. “No, no, no!” Kay shook his head violently, his body trembling with panic as he gripped onto Deacon even tighter.


    “W-wait! Please! I don’t wanna go back!” His voice cracked, his plea dripping with raw, desperate fear.


    His fingers dug into his father’s uniform, his small hands shaking uncontrollably as he sobbed against Deacon’s chest. “Please! Don’t make me go back!”


    Deacon’s expression remained warm yet devastatingly sorrowful as he wrapped his arms tighter around Kay, as if trying to memorize the feeling of holding his son one last time. He ran a gentle, calloused hand through Kay’s messy hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, son… but your mom needs you.”


    Kay’s sobs grew more frantic, his arms locking around Deacon’s waist like a lifeline. “No! Please! I don’t want to go back!” His voice was barely coherent, swallowed by his choked cries. “I don’t want to be alone again! I don’t—I don’t—"


    But Deacon never let go. Not until the very last moment. Kay felt the warmth of his father’s embrace fade, felt his fingers slip through the fabric of Deacon’s ruined uniform, felt the world around him dissolve into nothingness—And then—Darkness.


    A steady, rhythmic beep. Then another. Then another.


    Kay’s mind drifted between the waking world and the void, his consciousness sluggish, heavy, like he was wading through thick water, unable to reach the surface. But that sound, that incessant beeping, it was pulling him back, grounding him in a reality he wasn’t sure he wanted to return to.


    Slowly, painfully, his crimson eyes fluttered open. A bright, artificial light flooded his vision, the sterile white walls and metallic furniture of the hospital room coming into focus. The air smelled of antiseptic and faint traces of iron, the unmistakable scent of blood.


    His own. His body ached, a dull, persistent pain thrumming through every fiber of his being. He tried to move his arm, nothing. His fingers, nothing. His body was weak, drained, tethered to wires and tubes that snaked around him like vines.


    The steady hiss of oxygen. The drip of intravenous fluids. The soft, mechanical whir of transfusion equipment pumping new blood into his veins.


    And then—he heard her. Soft, broken sobs.


    Kay’s gaze slowly drifted to the shaking figure beside him, her face buried in the sterile white sheets of his bed, her hands gripping the fabric as if holding on for dear life. His mom.


    Leya’s dark, messy hair fell around her hunched shoulders, her entire body trembling as she cried into the covers. Her usual cold, distant demeanor was nowhere to be seen, in its place was a woman completely shattered, completely ruined, suffocating under the weight of her own grief.


    Her muffled voice cracked through the silence. “I should have noticed sooner… I should have seen it…” she whispered through her sobs. “I-I should have been paying attention to you, Kay—I should have… I should have…”


    Kay’s breath hitched. She blamed herself.


    Leya’s fingers clenched tighter into the sheets as she shook her head violently, tears dripping down onto the bedspread. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out. “I— I failed you.”


    Kay’s throat tightened. He wanted to speak, to tell her he was there, that he was alive, but his voice refused to come out. His lips barely parted, but nothing more than a dry, strained breath escaped.


    She thought he was dead. Leya’s body shuddered with every breath as she sobbed. “You probably hated me, didn’t you?” she whispered, her voice so painfully fragile. “I— I deserve it.”


    Kay felt his heart sink. Mom… he thought weakly, his crimson eyes glistening.


    She sniffled, wiping at her tear-streaked face, though it did nothing to stop the flow of guilt-ridden sobs. “I was a horrible mom, Kay…” she whimpered, her voice almost inaudible. “I hurt you. I pushed you away. I made you feel like… like you were alone. Like I didn’t love you.”


    She gritted her teeth as another wave of sobs overtook her, shaking her entire frame. “But I did. I always did.”


    Kay’s breathing hitched, his eyes widening slightly. She loved him.


    Even after all of it. After the bruises, the yelling, the distance, she had always loved him. And in that moment, everything shifted.


    Kay had spent years believing his mother was incapable of love, that she had long since stopped caring about him. That she wanted nothing to do with him.


    But now? Here she was… Completely falling apart, grieving for him like he was the most precious thing in the world.


    “I love you, Kay…” she sobbed into the sheets. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”


    Kay’s vision blurred, a single tear rolling down the side of his face.


    She loved him. Even if she was broken, damaged, lost in her own suffering, she still loved him.


    His eyelids grew heavier, his body succumbing to the weight of exhaustion, of blood loss, of grief. The last thing he saw before the darkness swallowed him again, was the sight of his mother, still crying into the sheets of his bed, holding onto him like she was afraid of letting go.


    A couple of hours would soon pass before Kay’s consciousness flickered back to life, though his body still felt like it was weighed down by iron chains. A dull, sluggish ache pulsed in his limbs, as if his very bones were resisting his return.


    His breath was shallow, his throat raw from the ordeal, and the sterile scent of antiseptic filled his nose, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood transfusion equipment nearby. His crimson gaze groggily swept across the dim hospital room, his vision hazy at first before sharpening slightly under the sterile glow of overhead lights.


    The room was cold, almost unnaturally so, with smooth, white walls that felt too clean, too artificial. The rhythmic beeping of machines filled the silence, each pulse a reminder that he was still tethered to life. To his right, the soft rise and fall of another’s breathing caught his attention.


    There, slumped over the side of his hospital bed, was his mother. Leya’s body was curled into itself, her arms folded tightly against the bed as though shielding something fragile.


    The dark mess of her hair obscured her face, but Kay could see the tremble in her shoulders, the way her grip on the sheets remained tight even in sleep. Her clothes were still damp from earlier, clinging uncomfortably to her thin frame, and the deep lines beneath her closed eyes spoke of exhaustion beyond the physical. She had cried herself to sleep.


    A sharp pang of guilt twisted in Kay’s chest, but before he could even think of moving, a voice, gentle, quiet, cut through the silence. “Kay?”


    Kay’s body stiffened instantly. A cold dread slithered down his spine as his breath caught in his throat. He turned his head ever so slowly, his heart pounding weakly in his chest.


    It was her. The vampire woman from the cavern loomed over him like a ghost, her silhouette framed in the soft, artificial glow of the room. Her pale skin nearly glowed under the fluorescent light, and her long, flowing black dress moved ever so slightly, as if caught in an unseen breeze.


    Intricate lace detailing ran along the edges of her sleeves and neckline, the patterns resembling old, noble craftsmanship. Her dark hair cascaded like liquid silk over her shoulders, strands of it framing her delicate yet sorrowful face.


    But it was her eyes, deep crimson, gleaming with regret, that sent a shiver down Kay’s spine. Her ruby lips parted slightly, her fangs barely visible as she exhaled.


    “I’m sorry…” she murmured, her voice like the whisper of a dying ember.


    Kay’s breath hitched as he instinctively tensed, his body still too weak to react properly. “Y-you…” he rasped, his throat burning as he forced the word out.


    The woman gave a somber nod, her gaze flickering briefly to the bite mark on his neck. It was barely visible under the gauze, but she saw it nonetheless, the evidence of her mistake.


    “I didn’t mean to cause you so much harm,” she said softly, her tone laced with genuine regret. Her cold, delicate fingers reached toward him, but Kay flinched at the movement, a primal fear bubbling inside him.


    Yet, his body was too weak to recoil fully, leaving him trapped between fight and helplessness. “I meant to find you sooner,” she continued as her palm hovered just above his stomach.


    A faint, eerie white glow pulsed from her palm, the energy soothing yet unfamiliar. The moment it touched him, a strange warmth spread through his body, not burning, not painful, but light, like a distant sun slowly melting away the frost that clung to him.


    Kay gasped softly as the sensation spread, his strength steadily returning. The cold in his limbs faded, the tremors in his fingers easing. His crimson eyes dulled to their natural brown. His fangs retracted, the sharp points smoothing back into normal teeth.


    “W-what are you doing?” Kay croaked, his voice thick with disbelief.


    The woman smiled, small, fleeting, but filled with something bittersweet. “It’s an old technique I learned from someone years ago,” she explained gently, her fingers pressing lightly to his stomach as she continued the spell. “His name was Ino Namikaze, I believe…”


    Her voice carried a strange fondness as she spoke the name, like she was recalling an old friend, a distant yet cherished memory. “Basically, this technique was created by sorcerers to cure vampires and return them fully back to human,” she continued, her voice steady but quiet. The glow pulsed stronger for a brief moment before settling again. “However…”


    Kay swallowed thickly, his breath still uneven as he slowly met her gaze. “However what?”


    Her smile remained, but there was something knowing in her expression now. “If one is skilled enough, they can modify the spell, to make it so that the subject retains their vampiric abilities, minus the… downsides.”


    Kay’s eyes widened, the implications sinking in. She was offering him a choice.


    The woman let him process her words, watching the emotions flicker across his face before her gaze softened. She turned briefly to Leya, who still lay slumped over, lost in her exhaustion.


    “I know I’ve caused you two a lot of trouble,” she murmured, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. She then turned back to Kay, her eyes steady and patient. “So the choice is yours... would you like to be my apprentice?”


    Kay furrowed his brow, his thoughts racing as he struggled to keep up. “Your… apprentice?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. There had to be a catch.


    The woman gave a slow, solemn nod. “I can teach you how to use your powers,” she said, gesturing lightly. “Give you the strength to protect your loved ones…”


    Her gaze flickered briefly to Leya again before she continued. “Or, I can turn you back to how you were before. Cure you completely.”


    She leaned back slightly, folding her hands in front of her as she offered a small, patient smile. “What do you say?”


    Kay’s fingers gripped the sheets beneath him as his mind swirled in turmoil. His mother’s sleeping form. His friends. His future.


    For the first time in days, he felt control over his own fate. He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with deep, measured breaths. Slowly, after what felt like an eternity, he turned his gaze to the woman.


    His mouth opened slowly and hesitantly to speak. “I…”