Draven stood on the edge of the Nightwatchers' headquarters, his eyes narrowed as he watched Kaelen drive off, the car disappearing into the foggy streets of Ravetham. The faint scent of blood hung in the air, telling him what his eyes already knew—Kaelen had been crying. His blood had that saltier tinge, mixing in with old wounds and fresh sorrows. Draven sighed deeply, relieved that his own daughter was just a normal human, tucked away safely in North Carolina with her mother. At least she wouldn’t be caught up in this insanity, away from the twisted city of Ravetham, a hidden paradise for the rich but a living nightmare for everyone else.

The Nightwatchers were under strict orders from the president to keep tabs on Kaelen at all costs. A shadow of unease crept into Draven’s mind as he recalled the intel on Kaelen’s children. His son, Adrian, was no ordinary child—an IQ estimated at 680, far beyond human comprehension. Draven had heard the number, chuckled at first, thinking it was a joke, but then he saw how dead serious the report was. Ridiculous, right? Draven asked Lira, who was seated next to him, tapping away at a chessboard.

Lira didn’t even look up as she responded, “No joke. I played Adrian once, thinking it would be a cute little match. He destroyed me in under ten minutes. I’m not even mad, just... in awe. His mind works like nothing I’ve ever seen.” She flicked her piece across the board, eyes narrowing in concentration.

Vanya leaned against the side of the armored vehicle they were loading up, smirking as she overheard Lira. “Sounds like trouble. I’ve seen those kids, by the way. Met them last night.” Her voice dropped as she paused, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. “They’re... off. Not in a bad way, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. I can’t explain it. They're playful, almost childlike, but there’s something beneath the surface, something I can’t shake.” She lit a cigarette, her thoughts seemingly drifting to darker places. “But you know what? I’ve fallen for them. Something about them feels... magnetic. Can’t explain it.”

Kell, always practical, finished packing her gear before adding her thoughts. “Kaelen’s the general now. You’d think that’d come with a sense of triumph, but today, what I saw on his face? It was something else. Tragic, maybe even desperate.” She looked away, biting her lip. “I watched the news... and I feel bad for him. But kids will be kids, right?” She chuckled darkly, though the laughter didn’t reach her eyes. “Not that I want any kids of my own. But maybe, just maybe, if it were with Lira...” Kell trailed off, her usual stoic expression softening briefly before she went back to work.

Draven grunted, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Let’s get on with it." He moved quickly to the front seat of the armored vehicle, flipping on a secured comms channel. The lines crackled before settling into encrypted chatter.

"Knight-One moving. Delta formation. Objectives confirmed. Eyes on Kestrel." Draven spoke into his mic, using code names as the mission began. The rest of the Nightwatchers stacked into the vehicle—black, sleek, and military-grade, fully loaded with enough firepower and gear to take on a small army.

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Draven’s mind wandered to Kaelen again. His old friend was unraveling, bleeding inside and out, weighed down by the reality of his children. It was painful to witness. He couldn't imagine what Kaelen was going through. Draven took a long, deep breath as he finished loading the equipment. Loren, ever the resourceful one, handed him a drink of blood, nodding silently. The taste was sharp, bitter on his tongue, but it sharpened his focus.

“We need to be ready for anything,” Draven said, sliding into the driver's seat of the Blackfang Marauder, and the Nightwatchers rolled out after Kaelen.

Kaelen felt the weight of everything crushing him as he drove, the city's streets blurring past. His hands were still shaking from the encounter with his daughters, the blood smears on his face already drying into a tight crust. His thoughts were like a raging storm, overwhelming and relentless. How had things spiraled so out of control? He had hoped for some semblance of normalcy, to be a father who raised his children in peace. Instead, they were... monsters, and it was too much to handle.

The winding roads of Ravetham led him to **The End Grind Gym**, a familiar spot where he’d always gone to clear his mind. He parked and wiped his face, trying to compose himself before stepping out into the humid air. But as soon as he approached the gym, his heart sank.

There they were—his children, standing in front of the entrance. Xyra was blushing as she held Celesse, who was sleepily nestled against her. Adrian stood beside them, arms folded, looking as sharp and calculating as ever. Selene lingered behind, her soft gaze locking onto him as if reading his soul.

Kaelen froze. “How... how did you know I’d be here?”

Celesse, ever the innocent one, blushed and muttered an apology. “We... we just wanted to see you.”

"We’re sorry, Father," Xyra said quietly, looking down at Celesse. Adrian, standing off to the side, echoed her sentiment with a solemn nod. Selene gave him a small, apologetic smile, her eyes flickering with some unknown emotion.

Adrian, the ever-rational mind, added, “Father, apologies, but we traced your movements. It wasn’t difficult.”

Kaelen sighed, waving his hand. “Follow me inside.”

Once inside, Kaelen started on his usual workout—**lifting heavy steel**, trying to burn off the frustration, the pain, and the helplessness. Each clang of the weights felt like a release. He hoped his children would find some solace here too, some way to ground themselves.

Adrian, ever the scientist, broke the silence. “Father, what’s the benefit of lifting steel when my injections increase my strength every week?”

Kaelen chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’s not always about physical strength, Adrian. Sometimes, it’s about the discipline, the mental clarity. Lifting weights doesn’t just make you stronger—it gives you time to think, to reflect. You should try it sometime.”

Adrian stared at him, eyes calculating, before nodding slightly. “I see.”

Just as Kaelen was about to get into the next set, the gym door swung open. The Nightwatchers walked in, armed and ready, their eyes sweeping the room. Draven approached first, his gaze lingering on Kaelen. “General... we tracked you.”

Kaelen stood up straight, glancing at his son. Adrian’s expression shifted, his confidence faltering slightly as he saw his mother, Loren, enter the gym with the squad. Her presence exuded command, her eyes scanning every inch of the place before settling on Adrian.

The boy flinched slightly, as if suddenly remembering who these people were—his father’s squad, Nightwatchers, elite operatives with enough skills to run countries in the shadows.

Kaelen sighed, realizing how far things had gone. He looked at Loren, then at the rest of the team. “We’re buying this place. It’s time we made it our own.”