I was starting to get used to being confronted by strange and unusual sights. Though standing at the edge of the University grounds and watching the people that passed by, I was again taken aback by what I saw. My inner monologue, as usual, swung somewhere between fascinated and vaguely sarcastic -my default coping mechanism for the sheer madness my life had become.

I saw what I could only call a pair of literal demons, standing not twenty feet in front of me. Black horns twisted up from their heads like macabre crowns. The guy had cloven hooves that dug into the path as if he was testing the earth’s patience, while the girl flicked a barbed tail behind her with a lazy precision that suggested she could snap necks with a casual flick.

They both had tribal tattooed leather wings, dark as midnight, spreading out behind them. Every movement they made carried a confident, predatory grace, as though the space around them was theirs by right. They looked like they had crawled straight out of a steamy fantasy novel -or maybe a heavy metal album cover.

I half-expected a power chord to ring out from the heavens.

And further up the path, I saw what had to be a group of angels, five of them, walking toward a large, unmarked brick building. Their wings were the kind you’d expect to see on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel: feathered, luminous, and unreal. Each one was a walking kaleidoscope, their plumage displaying an array of colors so vivid it was as though the light bent around them just to highlight the spectacle. The spectrum ran from mundane whites, browns, and blacks to the impossibly exotic yellows, greens, blues, and golds. Each angel seemed to claim a different dominant hue as their personal signature.

They glowed -not in the cheesy halo-on-a-stick way, but with an ethereal radiance that made them feel untouchable. They were physically striking too, all chiseled cheekbones and sculpted physiques. If you looked up “statuesque” in the dictionary, there was probably an illustration of these guys fist-bumping God.

I was transfixed. Not just by their presence, but by the startling contrast between the two groups. The demons and the angels were opposites in every way that mattered. You could easily tell which was which, based on the tropes. But that’s where their differences ended.

They both held the kind of presence that made the world feel a little smaller in their wake. The demons weren’t hideous, as I might’ve expected. They were unique, raw, and dangerously in their own infernal way. Their tattoos seemed less like decoration and more like declarations -a statement of identity inked in bold lines and curves. Even their piercings spoke of their individuality, small details that set them apart within their own infernal mold.

Did I mention they were hot? If I had on a green tiki mask, I’d be doing my best impression of a cartoon wolf. “Ahooogaa,” doesn’t begin to tell how smokin’ they were.

And as I looked around the campus, I saw the same level of star calibre beauty pageant winners at every corner.

I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until I heard a cough to my left. The sound pulled me out of my reverie, and I snapped my jaw shut so quickly I nearly bit my tongue. Netty and Nix had gone still on my shoulders, their claws tightening slightly against my skin. I could feel the tension in their small frames, a pulse of unease flowing through the bond we shared. They were always hyper-aware of danger, and right now, their instincts were screaming.

“Hello,” a voice said, smooth and precise. “Might I inquire as to who you are and what you’re doing here?”

The speaker was a woman who exuded a quiet intensity, her presence sharp enough to cut glass. She was tough as nails, with the kind of look that suggested she could dismantle me physically, emotionally, and possibly existentially without breaking a sweat. Her features hinted at an ambiguous Asian descent, but her flawless appearance made her ageless, almost unearthly. Her expression was severe, the kind of look that made me feel like I was being weighed and measured -and maybe found wanting.

Despite her diminutive frame, she radiated power like a dormant volcano, her calm demeanor holding back the kind of force that could obliterate everything in its path. It wasn’t just intimidating -it was oppressive. The kind of presence that makes you rethink your life choices, even if you’re not entirely sure why.

Her presence wasn’t on par with Alera, but then who’s was? Alera was a literal dragon after all. But whoever she was, she still sent my inner self ducking for cover.

I felt something looming behind me, a shift in the air that sent a fresh spike of tension through Netty and Nix. Their claws dug in harder, a silent warning. Through their eyes -yes, their eyes- I saw him. The Goliath. His size was mind-bending, a wall of muscle and mass that seemed to block out the world behind him. The triple vision hit me like a freight train, disorienting and headache-inducing. Netty and Nix each gave me a different angle, and my own special brand of Sight stitched the pieces together in a way my brain struggled to process.

That’s when the full weight of Alera’s words sank in. Netty and Nix granted me sight. But I hadn’t fully grasped how sweeping that statement was until now. This wasn’t just a better pair of glasses. This was omnipresent, hyper-real awareness. And my mind? Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly thrilled about playing host to three simultaneous perspectives.

I slammed my eyes shut, hoping it would help. It did. Sort of. The overwhelming patterns of cosmic light receded behind my lids, though I could still see through Netty and Nix as clearly as if they were feeding their vision directly into my brain. Which, I guess, they technically were.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to focus. If I concentrated on one perspective, I found I could filter the others out, the way you might ignore a nagging noise in the background. It wasn’t perfect -more like tuning down the volume on a particularly persistent radio station- but it was enough.

I focused on Netty’s view. Relief flooded through me as I narrowed my perception to just her. She was locked onto the Goliath, her indigo eyes fixed on his face with an intensity that made me wonder if she was planning his assassination.

Switching to Nix’s perspective, I saw that he had shifted his gaze back to the woman in front of me. Which made sense, considering she had started talking again, her tone as sharp and deliberate as her presence.

“If you don’t immediately tell me who you are, what you are doing here, and most importantly, how you came to be here,” she said, her voice tightening like a noose, “I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. And that could prove to be… unpleasant.”

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I wasn’t sure if she meant unpleasant for me or her, but I had a sinking feeling it was the former. Or both -she struck me as the sort who wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Yet you could tell she didn’t enjoy having to scrape the bugs off of her shoe. struck me as the sort who wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. But she didn’t enjoy having to scrape the bugs off of her shoe.

Her words carried a weight that pressed against my chest, a subtle threat wrapped in civility. The kind of threat that didn’t need to raise its voice to make its point.

In the pit of my stomach, I felt the whisper of the Hunger stir, the dark, gnawing presence that had been my constant companion since the change. It wasn’t just the fear -it was her.

Damn it, I thought Alera had said I had this under control, I thought bitterly.

Something about her aura brushed against that primal part of me, stirring the predator within. My hands clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I forced the beast back down, caging it with sheer willpower. The last thing I needed was to lose control now.

Netty and Nix remained poised, ready to react at the slightest provocation. Their tension fed into mine, a feedback loop of unease that I struggled to break. The air around us seemed to thrum with potential violence, a storm waiting for the first flash of lightning to set it off.

I didn’t answer right away. Partly because I was still processing the whole “seeing through my familiars” thing, and partly because I had no idea how to explain myself without getting incinerated. So I did what I always do when confronted with overwhelming odds and a high likelihood of death.

I stalled.

“Umm, I was let in. My name is Declan Mor. And I’m honestly not sure what I’m doing here. You see, my friend Jinx-”

I didn’t even get to finish. The lady in charge of her apparent volcano aura cut me off mid-sentence, and rather rudely, if I do say so myself.

“Alright, Declan Mor. And who exactly let you in?” she asked, her tone sharper than a guillotine on payday.

Her no-nonsense attitude was starting to grate. Look, I’m not saying I deserved a hero’s welcome, but treating me like I was auditioning for the role of “Suspicious Stranger #3” in a murder mystery? That was a bit much. I hadn’t done anything wrong -unless you counted being epically tired, hungry, and recently undead as crimes.

“Listen, lady, I don’t know who you are,” I began, my voice carrying all the irritation of a man on his last nerve. “But enough with the third degree. I don’t have to take this. Just take me to whoever is in charge, and let’s get this over with.”

Alright, fine. Maybe I was a tad testy. In my defense, I was tired. And hungry. And her whole “judgmental volcano” energy wasn’t helping.

“So be it, Mr. Mor,” she said, her voice as even and unyielding as steel. She gave a nod, and that was apparently the signal for the walking skyscraper behind me to step forward. I felt the shift in the air as he moved, his shadow eclipsing mine entirely. A hand descended on my shoulder, and while it wasn’t overly aggressive, it was certainly firm.

Now, I’m not saying I reacted well, but I’m also not saying I wasn’t justified. Hunger and exhaustion do things to a man. Add in the heightened instincts of a newly minted vampire, and you’ve got a recipe for overreaction.

Before my brain fully registered the situation, my body went into autopilot. Years of training -now supercharged by my new vampiric strength- kicked in. In a blur, I grabbed his arm, shifted my weight, and leveraged him into the ground. One second, he was a human mountain standing behind me, and the next, he was face-down in the dirt, his arm locked straight and torqued painfully behind him. My knee pressed into his broad back like a paperweight holding down an unruly stack of folders.

“Stay down,” I growled, the words coming out more feral than I intended.

To his credit, the guy didn’t scream or thrash. He was too smart -or maybe too experienced- to struggle and risk dislocating something vital. Instead, he stayed still, straining against the hold but clearly aware he couldn’t break it without a serious injury. I glanced up at the lady in charge, expecting her to explode with the fury of a thousand suns.

She didn’t. Instead, she just… stood there. Watching me. Her unreadable gaze locked with mine, and for what felt like an eternity, neither of us moved. The tension was thicker than a bad first date.

And then, something unexpected happened. Her rigid posture softened, her severe expression melting like ice under a warm sun. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she quirked an eyebrow at me, almost as if she were amused.

“Well, Mr. Mor. I apologize. I meant no offense,” she said, her tone surprisingly pleasant. “If you would please allow us to escort you, I’m sure we’ll get this sorted out immediately.”

I blinked, thrown off by her sudden change in demeanor. What was her game? Was she testing me? Or did she just enjoy a good arm lock demonstration? Either way, I decided to let it go. Slowly, I released the Goliath’s arm and stepped back.

He rose to his feet, rotating his shoulder with a quiet grunt. I braced myself for a glare, maybe even retaliation. Instead, he gave me a look of… respect? His piercing eyes met mine, and there was a quiet nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t friendly, exactly, but it wasn’t hostile either. Sort of like a silent “not bad, kid.”

I think I made a friend. Or, at the very least, I earned a sliver of grudging admiration. This time, when he placed his hand on my shoulder, the weight of it felt different -less like a threat and more like a gesture of camaraderie. Progress, I suppose.

They flanked me like sentinels as we walked through the University campus. The sheer presence of my newfound entourage drew attention. Eyes followed us from every direction, curious and wary, their gazes heavy enough to make the air feel thick. Was it me they were staring at? My dragonet and phoenix companions perched on my shoulders? Or the intimidating duo escorting me like I was the world’s most interesting VIP? Whatever the case, I could feel their curiosity like a static charge in the atmosphere.

Even that group of angels, and the demons I had noticed earlier were watching me. I felt like the biggest thing since toasted bread.

The campus itself was a sight to behold, a sprawling mix of architectural styles that somehow managed to harmonize into a cohesive whole. Towering spires jutted into the sky, their surfaces covered in glowing runes that pulsed faintly with energy. Pathways wound through manicured gardens and open courtyards, where groups of students and faculty moved with purpose. The air was alive with the hum of arcane energy, a subtle vibration that seemed to sink into my skin.

The closer we got to the building they were leading me toward, the more important it became. It wasn’t just the size or the ornate carvings above the entryway -though those certainly helped. It was the way people moved around it, their steps quick and their postures deferential. Most of the foot traffic seemed to be faculty, though the occasional student darted in or out, their expressions a mix of nervousness and determination.

As we approached, I tried to keep my Sight open, curious to see the building’s patterns. But the triple input from Netty, Nix, and my own perspective was still too much. My brain felt like an overloaded computer, lagging and stuttering with every new influx of sensory data. Frustrated, I closed my vision again, relying on my companions’ guidance instead. It wasn’t perfect, but it was manageable -for now.

We passed through the entrance, and a wave of cold washed over me. It wasn’t the kind of chill that bites at your skin; it was deeper, more profound, like stepping into a vacuum where warmth and hunger couldn’t exist. For the second time in as many hours, maybe longer, the gnawing Hunger in my chest faded into a faint echo. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, my body relaxing as the tension ebbed away.

Netty and Nix seemed to feel it too. Their claws, which had been gripping my shoulders tightly, loosened. Netty coiled herself more comfortably around my neck, her indigo glow soft and calm. Nix’s fiery light dimmed to a gentle ember, his talons resting lightly against my shoulder. Whatever this place was, it seemed to have a soothing effect on all of us.