'What in the actual hell?' Zoé couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Her Childer was experiencing immense pain, his body jerking and convulsing uncontrollably. He frantically pulled at his hair as if it were causing him unbearable torment. His agonized cries slowly tapered to low whimpers as he hugged his arms around himself, sagging back onto his heels, shivering and softly sobbing.

Zoé's pupils contracted into pinpricks as she detected the unmistakable smell of fresh blood suffusing the air around her.

Little droplets of crimson dripped onto the snowy ground in front of her Childe, each drop falling with a steady, rhythmic beat.

He'd come to a complete halt. No more groans, shivers, or cries. He remained as motionless as a frozen statue.

The silence that replaced his screams seemed to lend an eerie weight to the howling wind, as if a wailing banshee had swept through, having found its prey and departed, leaving behind a lingering sense of foreboding. Amidst this stillness, the only thing that danced and swirled was his hair, whipping around his bowed head.

Zoé could barely recognize if he was even still alive, but the faint presence of their Blood Bond indicated he was on the cusp of unlife and true death.

Zoé felt a fluttering sensation in her chest. She bit her lip, trying to control her emotions. Taking a deep breath through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, she pushed aside her anger and determination, allowing morbid curiosity to take over. It had been a while since she resorted to this mortal habit of stress relief. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest helped ease some tension, even though she struggled to mimic the correct muscle movements for breathing. Not that it mattered.

She silently wondered, 'What's happening to him?' It didn't seem like the usual signs of excessive blood consumption. Could it be that the Inquisition agent had pushed him beyond his limits? She even considered the possibility of a brain hemorrhage, trying to understand what could've caused such a severe condition. However, her thoughts were interrupted when the young man abruptly shuddered, as if overcome by an intense and chilling sensation.

The young man slowly lowered his hands, blood stains marking his palms. His face revealed no emotions, appearing completely blank and unreadable. It was as if his mind had drifted far away, leaving behind an empty shell.

...Drip... Drip...

Dark blood trickled from his nose, staining his shirt and creating small crimson spots on the snow beneath him.

'Fuck it.' Zoé made her decision. Against her better judgment, she felt bad for the guy.

He was innocent, or at least as innocent as a person could be. He hadn't asked for any of this. And now he was suffering. If her Prince discovered him, or worse, her Clan, the consequences would be horrendous for everyone involved.

She steeled herself; this was for the best. Innocent or not, his living meant her death. She had no intention of surrendering without a fight, not yet.

She moved swiftly, her form blurring as she darted behind him. The snow swirled around her boots as she glided through the deep powder. With near-perfect accuracy, she jammed her right knee into his upper back, and then, reaching forward, she firmly gripped under both sides of his chin and pulled back while exerting forward pressure with her knee, immobilizing him.

He was painfully contorted backward, his body forming an almost perfect 'C' shape as his strained joints audibly popped and creaked within their sockets.

Zoé found herself staring into his pale, upside-down face. Small streams of vitae trickled from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were shut tight. Surprisingly, his expression was calm, almost serene, despite having someone trying to rip his head off.

'Caine... He's fucked up,' she groused, her sympathy wavering for a moment. 'But you've done worse,' she reminded herself. 'Finish it, and everything will go back to normal.' Her jaw clenched tightly as she gritted her teeth, the muscles in her arms visibly straining with greater effort.

The young man's eyes shot open. A thin, vivid crimson ring encircled his otherwise grey irises.

Their eyes met.

Her instincts screamed. Zoé blinked. 'Oh, fu-'

A fierce, predatory gleam ignited in his eyes, transforming him into an entirely different person. With a surge of energy, he twisted sideways with newfound strength. His right elbow crashed against the side of her abdomen, catching her off guard.

Zoé cursed as her hold on his chin slipped. Before she could do anything else, his elbow crashed into her other side with enough force to fracture her lower ribs. She hissed through her teeth and redoubled her efforts, refusing to let go despite her loosened grip.

He, in turn, methodically pistonned his elbows backward in low horizontal strikes, each blow falling like a hammer and shaking her body.

But she didn't loosen her grip; she only pulled harder. Frustration consumed her as she cried out internally, 'How is he so fucking strong?! Not even that bastard Runner had hit this hard!'

They locked eyes, both filled with an intense desire to brutally kill the other. He, breaking the sides of her ribcage, and she, snarling in equal measures of pain and determination as she desperately tried to rip his head off and end the fight.

One solid hit was all it took; her grip loosened further. His chin broke free from her grasp as he swiftly shifted on his knees. He drove his right elbow forcefully into her side, causing her to lose her balance. Spinning with the momentum, he twisted himself around, maintaining his elbow in her side as he moved behind her and encircled her waist with both arms. Heaving her off the ground, he then dropped like a rock, forcefully slamming her onto the ground.

Zoé let out a cry as the asphalt met the side of her head, the world momentarily blurring. Then something crashed into her ear, her head bouncing off the ground again. Everything turned hazy, a ringing sound mingling with the raging snowstorm. Furious and dazed, she instinctively shielded her head with her forearm and attempted to roll away. However, her escape was thwarted by the man's left hand, firmly wedged between her and the ground, tightly gripping her waist and preventing her from moving. Meanwhile, his right fist relentlessly pummeled her from above.

Desperation clawed at Zoé's mind as she struggled against the relentless assault. She could feel the raw power behind each strike, the force driving her closer to unconsciousness. Gritting her teeth, she mustered every ounce of her remaining strength, focusing on finding a way out of this dire situation.

'Fuck me!' She hated the idea she just got, but it was the best she had.

Thump!

A hammer struck the inside of her chest as she moved her arm, uncovering her head. A fist violently crashed against her ear, sending starbursts across her vision. Thankfully, she didn't need to see for this next part as her hand flashed out in a claw, the elongated nails biting deeply around his wrist and holding it firmly in place as she snapped her head back with a snarl.

Crunch!

Her efforts were rewarded with the satisfying sound and sensation of shattering the bastard's nose, causing his grip around her waist to weaken. Seizing the opportunity, she swiftly released his wrist and rolled sideways over his now-flattened arm, rising into a crouched position. As she shook her head, her injuries regenerated beneath her clothing. The blurry world snapped into sharp focus before her eyes.

The young man gradually rose to his feet, his movements slow and controlled as he rose to his full height and rolled his shoulders. He turned around, his glowing red eyes meeting hers.

Zoé unceremoniously hacked and spat a wad of blood, spattering the snow a dark red. Then, she straightened up from her crouched position, never breaking eye contact with him as she rose. Her hands clenched into tight fists, causing her knuckles to crack audibly as they sized one another up.

In a fleeting instant, the young man's eyes flickered, deepening to a vivid crimson hue. Without warning, he surged forward, his movements becoming a blur as he executed a swift snap kick that narrowly missed connecting with Zoé's thigh. But instead of sailing past her, he somehow effortlessly maintained his balance and seamlessly transitioned into a relentless barrage of horizontal cross-body punches, striking with blinding speed and precision.

Zoé's eyes widened as she was forced to evade the incoming attack, taking a step back and shifting her weight into a back-footed stance. Then, to her surprise, the young man seamlessly spun around, utilizing the momentum from his right hook to deliver a deceptive reverse elbow strike. 'Tricky bastard!' she fumed inwardly, recognizing the agility and cunning he was putting into his every move. 'Where did he learn this shit? Did I turn a fucking martial arts doctor?' She cursed, impossibly contorting her upper body to avoid another spinning elbow strike as it narrowly missed her face. The move momentarily exposed his torso, presenting a temporary vulnerability.

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Thump!

The whites of Zoé's eyes darkened as she ducked and lunged forward, extending both hands and making solid contact with the young man's chest, throwing him off balance. Capitalizing on the advantage, she wasted no time and pursued him as he stumbled back. With lightning speed, she unleashed a powerful snap kick, driving her boot into his stomach and doubling him over.

She didn’t stop there. Zoé pressed her advantage, shifting her stance to deliver a knee strike to his chin, snapping his head back with a force that could crack bones. He staggered, disoriented, giving her just enough time to pivot and land a vicious elbow to his temple, sending him sprawling to the ground.

He wasn't stalled for long, though, as he almost immediately surged back up from the ground and retaliated with a rising diagonal right kick.

Zoé saw it coming from a mile away and snapped out a well-timed kick at his ankle, planting it back to the ground and shattering his momentum.

He responded with a frustrated growl and a rapid left jab that whistled through the air—blurring forward like a striking cobra.

She diverted the strike with a forearm, leaving him no choice but to follow through with a lunging right knee to her abdomen.

Zoé grunted, barely managing to catch his knee with both palms overlapping below her waist and shoved it down. Seizing the brief opening created by his unsteady back foot, she lashed out with a throat punch. The strike landed fast and hard, and she felt something give with a crack.

His windpipe crushed, the young man staggered back a step, gasping and choking reflexively.

'Now!' Zoé shouted to herself. With her right hand now free, she wasted no time. Taking an advancing step, she channeled her entire body's momentum into a high horizontal elbow strike, aimed precisely at her opponent's jaw. The impact was powerful, snapping his head to the side. Continuing her fluid motion, Zoé planted her back foot firmly on the ground, generating torque as she twisted her body. In one swift movement, she unleashed a crushing roundhouse kick, her leg cutting through the air with enough speed that the wind whistled past her leg as it soared directly at his head, and...

There was none of the anticipated resistance—she'd missed!

'Fucking shit!' She screamed at herself.

She was forced to follow through with the kick's momentum to reset her stance, hoping that the bastard was forced to avoid the strike in a manner that gave her time to regroup. Instead, her kicking foot planted heavily into the snow, and a blur was suddenly sailing at her face. She didn't even have time to register the palm strike before it broke her nose and crushed the cartilage into her brain. Her entire head whipped backward as she was thrown clear off her feet, screaming in pain as she crashed onto her back in the snow. An intense agony radiated through her skull, throwing her senses haywire as television static rampaged through her head. She couldn't see or feel anything, and the front of her face felt oddly detached, with a numbing warmth replacing all other sensations.

Somewhere... within the recesses of her 'soul,’ The Beast's nose twitched.

In the midst of her suffering, a memory of her Sire's voice resurfaced, echoing in her mind with a haunting familiarity. It seemed as if her mind had associated the excruciating pain with her Sire's voice like some fucked-up Pavlovian response. 'That looked like it hurt—now get up.' The voice served as a reminder, urging her to push through the pain and regain control.

Without a second thought, she swiftly rolled onto her side, narrowly evading an axe kick that crashed into the snowy ground right where her head had been!

Snow and chunks of asphalt burst into the air as the heel of a boot cracked the ground.

Thu...ud!

Zoé blurred, her figure far more discernible than before as she materialized barely ten meters away with a sharp cry of pain, collapsing to her hands and knees. Coughing violently, she expelled a mouthful of blood, staining the pristine snow beneath her.

Somewhere... within the recesses of her 'soul,’ The Beast growled in its sleep.

Summoning every ounce of determination she possessed, she crawled forward on her hands and knees, persevering through the pain as she struggled back to her feet, fighting against the rising anger trembling in the back of her mind. She fiercely vowed to herself, 'Not again... never again, not even now.' With her stumbling gait steadying, she felt her nose pop back into place, and she worked her jaw until it too snapped back into alignment. Finally, she turned around to face the young man.

Contrary to her expectations, he hadn't pursued her. Instead, he stood motionless in the same spot, his crimson-ringed gray eyes fixated on her as she struggled. His disregard and blatant disinterest were made even more evident by his lack of expression. The intensity of his seemingly bored gaze reignited the flames of a fire she had previously believed extinguished, stirring her fury into motion.

'This son of a—' She paused. 'This motherfu—' She gritted her teeth against the injustice of it all. She couldn’t even insult him without condemning herself! What the fuck! "You bastard..." she audibly growled, her eyes going bloodshot.

Thud!

Zoé's tangled auburn hair crazily whipped around her snarling face as she dashed against the wind, practically materializing in front of the Childe after crossing over fifteen meters in the blink of an eye. Crouching, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her combined momentum and weight lifting him off the ground and carrying him to brutally slam into a brick wall of a department store bordering the road.

He grunted and grimaced in pain as a series of spiderweb cracks spread out across the brick wall, and a dusting of red-clay brick, snow, and mortar rained down on the pair as he wrapped his left arm around her torso to stabilize himself and raised his right arm overhead like a guillotine before dropping it. A series of vicious, downward elbow strikes landed on her upper back, just below the neck.

Zoé grunted in pain and snarled, baring her fangs and sinking them into the side of his abdomen. She flexed her jaw firmly, shaking her head to rip and tear through skin and muscle as dark blood seeped around her lips.

Her Childe gave a profoundly pained shout that turned into a low-throated growl as a single blackened vein bulged against the side of his corded neck. His eyes went bloodshot; thump! He brought down his elbow again with twice the previous strength and speed. The impact buckled her knees as a tremor ran through her, and before she could re-adjust her grappling stance or mentally recover from the teeth-jarring pain, she felt him roughly grab a handful of her hair and pull. A tearing sensation ran down the back of her skull, and fiery agony burned across her scalp as her head was yanked away.

The mouthful of flesh she was biting into ripped free of his abdomen.

A sledgehammer crashed into the side of her head, causing her to reflexively spit out the hunk of bloody flesh as stars and darkness exploded across her vision.

The next moment, she was laid out on her stomach on the frozen sidewalk.

Despite the piercing migraine pounding at her temples and the suddenly fuzzy, wobbly surroundings, she scrambled onto all fours, desperately trying to climb back to her feet.

A shoe sailed into her side.

She cried out in time with the sound of breaking bones as she crumpled against the strike, flying sideways and slamming into the same brick wall before collapsing into a heap.

A cold hand roughly clamped around the back of her neck and pulled, raising her into the air like a kitten by its scruff. All she saw were those cold, gray eyes... and then she was weightless, the pressure around her neck gone as the darkened, white-washed world blurred past.

Her upper back hit the ground first, then the back of her head as her momentum had her lower body rising into the air like an uncoordinated contortionist as she unceremoniously twisted around on the back of her neck and crashed onto her stomach, sliding over a meter through the snow before coming to a stop.

Deep darkness...

Distant sounds...

Fuzzy numbness...

Her eyes flew open as she sucked in a deep breath of wintery air. Her senses returned one thing: pain. Her left side ached fiercely as the bones shifted and mended back into proper position, while her loose, aching jaw snapped back into place with a crack that reverberated uncomfortably through her skull. She clenched her jaw, eliciting a minor stab of pain as the remaining ligaments and muscles around the jawbone regenerated.

She was mad.

Slamming a palm onto the snow, she leveraged herself up, propping herself on a forearm as she looked up at the young man from the ground.

Bloodshot, shining emerald irises murderously glared from behind a messy curtain of stringy, snow-crusted hair.

The young man took an aggressive step.

Zoé tensed, preparing to call upon her vitae. And if she were frank with herself, she would admit that a sneaking twinge of anticipatory fear ran down the back of her neck.

This was one of the single most brutal, difficult fights she'd ever been in, including the two bastards from earlier in the night.

Her accidental Childer, only a few hours old, was somehow more capable than some centuries-old Sabbat warlords. What was happening? Had her Beast weakened her to such a state that she couldn't handle a fledgling? No. Of course not; she was being stupid. She wasn't imagining the man's strength, speed, or fighting prowess. But what didn't make sense was his capability to channel vitae and resist the lure of his Beast.

At such a young age, no matter how talented, a fledgling needed to feed constantly as their minds and bodies adjusted to the transformation.

They would be prone to emotional outbursts, loss of rationality, and easily enraged, angered, annoyed, frightened, or paranoid. It should have been a challenging, emotionally turbulent time where they needed their Sire to guide them.

The thought surfaced memories of her Sire—strong, intelligent, cruel, cunning... caring. She ignored the feelings those thoughts evoked.

The young man's fierce expression flickered before he suddenly seized, his figure turning rigid as a plank.

He uttered a single low moan of pain; his face contorted in anguish as his posture slackened the next moment, and the red veins in his bloodshot eyes receded while the blackened veins along his neck and forearms gradually vanished. Then, finally, he swayed and staggered before falling to one knee and barely caught himself with his left hand as he took deep, shuddering breaths. His left arm visibly shook. The strain of supporting his weight proving nearly too much.

'Huh?' The murderous glare in her eyes softened as she watched the young man... her Childer... her child... suffering through vitae strain.

Untrained fledglings often overdraw their vitae to perform their Clan's birthright supernatural abilities, whether feats of speed, strength, cognition, or near-invulnerability. The infant Blood Bond relayed an inkling of the pain suffusing his mind and body.

She suddenly felt a powerful urge to help him. To assist him in finding a proper rite of passage. Her blood sang, urged, and commanded that she provide aid. She entertained the notion for a the briefest of moments before her Sire's words, and the Traditions, echoed through her mind. The glimmer of softness in her eyes hardened into stone, and her kind-hearted nature protected beneath a frozen exterior was once more locked away beneath the ice.

Sentiment born of vampiric instinct to defend one's blood was weakness.

She would not be weak. She couldn’t be fragile. Not now, not ever.

Weakness got you killed; weakness got your friends killed... and friends... friends got you killed.

Alone was better. Alone was safer.

So fuck this warm feeling in her chest.

It was probably internal bleeding.

'This thing is a mistake. You know this, idiot. Now fix the fucking problem.'