The control center of the Helios Hotel’s 50th floor was bathed in dim, artificial light, the hum of high-tech machinery providing a subtle undercurrent to the tension filling the room. Kadir stood near the center, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression calm but watchful. The Flux Grandmaster exuded a quiet authority, his presence alone enough to command attention.

His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with the intensity of his power.

“Psycho Flux,” he murmured. His senses reached out, tracing the disturbance. It emanated from deep within the hotel, a sharp pulse of violent energy disrupting the harmony he worked so hard to maintain. He exhaled, his composure unbroken, yet the faintest crease of concern crossed his brow.

Opposite him, Conrad paced like a caged predator. His crimson eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the rage simmering beneath the surface. The Elder Vampire’s imposing form seemed to fill the room, his movements sharp and deliberate.

“No,” Conrad growled, his voice low and menacing. His fury exploded outward, the room trembling as his rage manifested physically. Chairs overturned, and the grand chandelier overhead rattled dangerously. This wasn’t the first time something had interfered with his connections—Mika’s silence had been unsettling—but this severance was complete. Absolute.

Elijah, ever the composed mediator, leaned against the wall with an air of practiced detachment. His dark suit was immaculate, his sharp features betraying none of the concern lurking behind his calm exterior.

Kadir broke the silence first, his tone measured. “You’ve been playing a dangerous game, Conrad. Sending Faraday, Mika, and your lackeys to capture the boy was one thing. But now your ambitions have disrupted the delicate equilibrium of this city.”

Conrad stopped pacing and turned toward Kadir, a thin smile curling his lips. “Disrupted? Hardly. The boy is exceptional—far too valuable to leave untethered. Surely you see that. Or do you mean to imply that he belongs to you?”

Kadir’s gaze didn’t waver. “Kyon belongs to no one. He is not a pawn in your schemes, nor will I allow him to be used as such.”

Conrad’s smile widened, though there was no warmth in it. “You speak of allowing, yet here you stand, bound by the same constraints as I. You know as well as I do that direct action would shatter the balance. But rest assured, I don’t intend to harm him.”

“Harm?” Kadir’s voice dropped, quiet but cutting. “You would strip him of his humanity, bind him to your will, and parade him as a trophy of your power. Do not mistake that for benevolence.”

Conrad’s expression darkened. “And what of you, Grandmaster? Training him in secret, guiding him like a prized protégé? Tell me, Kadir, are you protecting him out of some altruistic sense of duty, or are you simply grooming him to be your weapon?”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, but Kadir remained composed. “The boy has potential, yes. But that potential is his to decide how to wield. I will not see it twisted into another tool of your machinations.”

Before Conrad could respond, Elijah stepped in, his voice smooth and unhurried. “Gentlemen, let’s not forget where we stand. The hunters are already stirring the pot downstairs. A direct confrontation between the two of you would turn this entire city into a warzone. Neither of us wants that.”

Conrad’s glare shifted to Elijah, but the coven master met it with a calm, unwavering gaze. “You know I’m right,” Elijah continued. “Besides, Kyon has proven himself resourceful enough to survive this long. Perhaps we should allow events to unfold and see what he does next.”

Conrad’s lip curled in disdain, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back toward the window, his gaze distant. “The hunters won’t stop him,” he said after a pause. “Faraday should have been more than enough to bring him to me, but now… that link is severed.” His voice dropped, and his fists tightened at his sides. “Do you realize what it takes to break a Blood Link? That boy is no ordinary human.”

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Kadir’s tone sharpened. “All the more reason for caution. You’ve already lost one of your best to him. Would you risk more lives and draw the attention of forces you cannot control?”

“I do not fear the hunters,” Conrad said coldly. “And I will not let this opportunity slip through my fingers. Kyon is the key to something far greater than you or I. He’s not just a daywalker; he’s a flux wielder. A miracle.”

“A miracle you’d destroy in your quest for dominance,” Kadir countered.

Elijah sighed, stepping forward to mediate once more. “We all know what’s at stake. But we also know the rules. If either of you interferes directly, it won’t just be the hunters or the vampires who retaliate. The Council would see to it that both of your factions were purged.”

Kadir nodded slightly, his gaze never leaving Conrad. “Then perhaps we agree on one thing, Elijah. Neither of us will act—yet. But know this, Conrad: if you try to claim Kyon for yourself, I will respond. And the consequences will not be yours alone to bear.”

Conrad’s smile returned, though his eyes burned with fury. “Threats from a Grandmaster? How quaint. But don’t pretend you’re above ambition, Kadir. The boy is a prize, whether you admit it or not.”

The tension in the room thickened, but neither Kadir nor Conrad moved. Elijah clapped his hands together lightly, breaking the silence.

“Well then,” Elijah said, his tone light but edged with purpose. “It seems we’ve reached a consensus. No one interferes. For now.”

Kadir’s gaze lingered on Conrad for a moment longer before he turned back toward the command console. His voice was quiet but firm. “If the balance is threatened, I will act.”

Conrad’s laughter echoed as he walked toward the door. “Oh, Kadir, the balance is always threatened. That’s what makes this so fun.”

As the Elder Vampire retreated, Kadir exhaled slowly, his thoughts drifting to Kyon. Stay strong, boy. The storm is only beginning.

Boiler Room.

Harvey crouched behind a column, his breath steady despite the chaos unfolding around him. Bullets ricocheted off pipes, and the shrieks of hunters filled the air. His concentration wavered for only a moment when the wave of Psycho Flux hit him like a hammer to the chest.

“That… that’s Kyon,” Harvey muttered, his voice tight with disbelief. He peered toward the source of the energy, narrowing his eyes as he realized just how powerful it was. “Damn it, kid. What did you do?”

Sia crouched beside him, her eyes wide with fear. “It’s Kyon, isn’t it? He’s—he’s still alive, right?”

Harvey placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “He’s alive. I can feel it. But he’s playing with fire right now. We need to reach him before this gets worse.”

They broke from cover, moving through the Maze-like boiler room. Harvey’s knowledge of Flux allowed him to evade the worst of the crossfire, creating shields and deflecting attacks with precise movements. Sia followed closely, her desperation lending her strength.

“What is he doing, Harvey?” she asked, her voice strained as they ducked into another corridor.

Harvey didn’t answer immediately. The truth was, he didn’t know. Kyon shouldn’t have had access to this level of power—not without extensive training. And yet, the sheer force of his Psycho Flux told a different story.

Kyon's First Person Point Of View.

Blood painted the boiler room as the vampire I had seized tore through the hunters like a force of nature. His movements were a blur—feral, unrelenting. Each slash of his claws left another life extinguished, their screams echoing in my skull. My hands trembled as I kept my grip on the compulsion, the Psycho Flux burning through me like fire.

“I shouldn’t have done this,” I muttered, the words barely audible over the carnage. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming shallow. This creature’s every action was mine—my command, my will. The room reeked of blood and fear, and I felt every drop spill as if it were my own.

A hunter staggered into the mist, his weapon raised. His eyes met mine—just for a moment—before the vampire struck. The sound of his body hitting the ground was muffled, but it echoed in my mind like a tolling bell. I clenched my fists, bile rising in my throat.

“Stop,” I whispered, though I knew he couldn’t. I couldn’t release him. If I did, he’d turn on me—or worse, Harvey and Sia.

Another hunter fell, her scream sharp, desperate, and then silenced. My chest tightened as the weight of her death pressed against me. These were people, I told myself, human beings. But they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill me first. That’s what I told myself, again and again, as the blood pooled around my feet.

The vampire halted, his glowing red eyes locking onto the last man standing. The hunter was shaking, his rifle slipping from his hands. He looked so young—too young to die here.

My throat tightened as I gave the command. “Kill him,” I whispered, the words bitter on my tongue.

The vampire obeyed, the sound of the man’s life ending like a thunderclap in the stillness. My stomach churned, my vision blurring. The compulsion held, but my strength wavered. I bit down the urge to scream, forcing myself to focus as the silence pressed down like a suffocating weight.