Azrael's wings disappeared into the night as he and his daughter departed the Project Eden compound, their shadows fading like whispers of death. The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating.
But Director Kain remained still, standing at the heart of the chamber, the faint golden glow in his eyes flickering. He turned toward a sealed steel door at the far end of the facility. Slowly, it creaked open, revealing rows of reinforced glass chambers.
Inside, skeletons and malformed corpses floated in preservation fluid. Some were winged, others horned, some with pale fangs or faint traces of magic pulsing in their veins. Each one was a failed experiment — his children.
"Centuries," Kain whispered, his voice laced with bitterness. "Centuries of trying to create what Heaven feared most: the perfect hybrid."
He walked past the tanks, his gaze lingering on each grotesque body. Some were stillborns that had never breathed life. Others lived only days, their bodies crumbling under the weight of mixed bloodlines. A few had survived longer but weaker than humans, incapable of wielding even a fragment of power.
"All of you… disappointments," Kain murmured coldly. His hand pressed against the glass of the last chamber, which was empty, waiting. "But he…" His eyes narrowed. "The boy at the academy. He is what I sought to create. The living proof that my vision was possible."
His voice lowered to a vow. "And I will claim him. One way or another."
Across the city, the night was much gentler.
Aiden adjusted his collar nervously as he walked beside Selene. The bustling streets were alive with music, streetlights glowing, and the faint smell of roasted food drifting through the air. This wasn't the academy, or the battlefield, or Victor's mansion — this was just… life.
"Relax," Selene teased, her crimson eyes glancing at him. "You look like you're going to face a vampire council, not take me on a date."
"I've fought priests and demons," Aiden muttered. "But this feels harder."
Selene laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in his chest. They slipped into a small café tucked between skyscrapers, one of those places only the wealthy or eccentric dared to visit. Selene ordered with confidence; Aiden fumbled, earning another of her amused smirks.
For the first time, they felt like teenagers — not predators, not heirs of ancient bloodlines, just two young people daring to be normal.
When they left the café, the city streets seemed to hum with a faint, otherworldly current. Aiden didn't notice, too busy listening to Selene's story about her childhood. But someone else did.
From across the street, leaning casually against the corner of a building, a young woman watched them.
Her silver hair shimmered in the lamplight, her cold gaze unwavering. It was the Daughter of Death — Azrael's child.
She hadn't meant to linger in the mortal world, but the moment she felt the pulse of that aura, she knew. The same force she had sensed on the battlefield. The same energy that even her father had acknowledged.
Her scythe remained hidden, but her fingers twitched faintly at her side.
"That boy…" she whispered, eyes narrowing as she watched Aiden laugh at something Selene said. "He's the one."
Her lips curled faintly, neither smile nor frown. "The monster born from what Heaven feared most."
And though Aiden and Selene walked on, blissfully unaware, the Daughter of Death's eyes never left them.