Some enemies knock on your door.
Others send warnings.
And then there are the ones arrogant enough to call themselves Heaven.
Those were always the most annoying.
I stood in the morning light, Damien's letter still warm inside my jacket.
The words echoed in my mind.
The King has awakened. Heaven would like to disagree.
Beautiful message.
Terrible attitude.
Behind me, the front door opened.
Soft footsteps.
Not human.
Not calm.
Danger.
Seraphina stepped outside first.
Crimson eyes colder than winter.
Her expression had lost all softness.
Only the noble predator remained.
Selene followed.
Silent.
Silver-haired moonlight wrapped in absolute calculation.
Valeria came next, smiling.
Which was somehow worse.
Lilith arrived last.
Royal calm.
The kind that only appeared before kingdoms burnt.
Perfect.
I turned toward them.
"Well."
I lifted the letter slightly.
"Apparently Heaven has opinions."
Valeria crossed her arms.
"How rude."
I appreciated her priorities.
Seraphina took the letter from my hand and read it once.
The paper darkened slightly beneath her fingers.
Interesting.
Anger.
Real anger.
She looked up.
"The Crimson Church should have stayed buried."
Lilith nodded once.
"They never stay buried."
Selene's voice remained calm.
"They call themselves judges."
A pause.
Then colder—
"They are executioners."
That sounded much more honest.
I leaned against the gate.
"So explain."
Because if the world wanted to kill me, I at least preferred proper introductions.
Lilith stepped forward.
"The Crimson Church existed before vampire clans built kingdoms."
Her gaze moved to the sunrise.
"They were created for one purpose."
She looked back at me.
"To decide which monsters are allowed to survive."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Who gave them that right?"
Valeria smiled.
"They did."
Good.
At least they were consistent.
Father stepped outside carrying tea.
Because naturally.
He stood beside me like we were discussing the weather instead of supernatural war.
Legend.
Absolute legend.
His voice was calm.
"They are dangerous because they believe they are righteous."
That—
I understood.
Men who killed for money were predictable.
Men who killed because they believed they were saving the world?
Much worse.
Seraphina looked at me.
"If they have confirmed your bloodline…"
Her voice lowered.
"They will not stop."
Selene added,
"They do not negotiate with kings."
Lilith's crimson eyes met mine.
"They remove them."
Wonderful.
I smiled faintly.
"People keep saying that like it's discouraging."
Valeria laughed.
"I really like him."
Mother's voice came from inside the house.
"Who is being removed before breakfast?"
Silence.
Then Father answered smoothly—
"No one important."
Marriage truly required elite survival skills.
I respected him more every day.
Then—
The sky changed.
All of us felt it.
Instantly.
Pressure.
Not emotional.
Physical.
Like the air itself had become heavier.
Birds stopped.
The wind stilled.
Even sunlight felt wrong.
Seraphina's expression hardened.
"They're early."
Lilith's voice became ice.
"No."
She looked upward.
"They're sending a message."
I followed her gaze.
Above the city—
far beyond normal sight—
Something moved.
At first, it looked like light.
Then—
figures.
Three of them.
Descending.
Not flying.
Falling with perfect control.
White coats.
Silver weapons.
No wasted movement.
No fear.
They looked less like hunters and more like judgement given shape.
Valeria sighed.
"Well."
She cracked her neck once.
"I was hoping for a quieter morning."
Father took another sip of tea.
"Finish breakfast first."
I almost smiled.
Impossible family.
Perfect.
The three figures landed at the end of the street.
No dramatic explosion.
No unnecessary noise.
Confidence like that only came from people used to winning.
Neighbours peeked through windows.
Bad idea.
This street was no longer normal.
The one in the centre stepped forward.
Young.
Maybe twenty-five.
White coat lined with silver symbols.
Black gloves.
Eyes so calm they felt inhuman.
At his waist—
a silver blade older than most governments.
He looked at me once.
And in that moment—
I knew.
This man had killed monsters for a very long time.
Good.
Finally.
Someone interesting.
He stopped at the gate.
His voice was quiet.
Clear.
Absolute.
"Aarav Malhotra."
Not a question.
I stepped forward.
"Yes."
His gaze moved to the women behind me.
Then to Father.
Then back to me.
Interesting.
He noticed everything.
Professional.
I respected that.
He reached into his coat and removed a silver cross.
Ancient.
Simple.
Deadly.
"The Crimson Church has judged your awakening."
He held it like law itself.
And said—
"You are summoned."
I raised an eyebrow.
"To what?"
His answer came without hesitation.
"Trial."
Of course.
Because apparently my life had become one long series of dramatic invitations.
I folded my arms.
"And if I decline?"
Silence.
The other two hunters behind him shifted slightly.
Ready.
Prepared.
He did not.
His voice remained calm.
"Then we return with permission to make the decision for you."
Honest.
Good.
I preferred honest threats.
Seraphina stepped beside me.
Killing intent filled the street.
Cold.
Sharp.
Royal.
"If the Church touches him—"
The hunter interrupted.
"Noir."
He looked at her without fear.
Bold.
Interesting.
"This is older than your clan."
Selene moved too.
Moonlight and danger.
"Careful."
Her voice was softer.
Which made it worse.
"History remembers people who underestimated us."
Valeria smiled like violence was flirting.
"I vote we skip diplomacy."
Lilith said nothing.
Which was the most dangerous part?
Her silence meant calculation.
Not emotion.
War.
The hunter looked only at me.
Correct choice.
Because this was not their decision.
It was mine.
I stepped forward until only the gate separated us.
Close enough to feel the silver on him.
Close enough for him to feel the monster in me.
The vampire king's bloodline stirred.
Ancient.
Hungry.
The assassin king smiled.
Cold.
Certain.
"I have a question."
He waited.
I leaned slightly closer.
"When your Church sends hunters…"
My voice dropped.
"…do they always arrive this politely?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
First crack.
Good.
I smiled.
"Because next time…"
Shadow moved beneath my feet.
The air darkened.
Every instinct on the street screamed.
"…bring enough."
Silence.
Heavy.
Perfect.
Then—
to my surprise—
The hunter smiled.
Small.
Sharp.
Like a man finally meeting the opponent he wanted.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He placed the silver cross back inside his coat.
"Three nights."
He turned away.
"After that…"
A pause.
No drama needed.
"Heaven stops asking."
Then they walked.
Not rushed.
Not afraid.
Because warriors recognised warriors.
And this—
This was not the beginning of a hunt.
It was the beginning of a war.
Behind me, the queens stood silent.
Father finished his tea.
Mother called from inside—
"Breakfast is getting cold!"
And somehow—
That felt like the most important sentence of the morning.
I looked at the rising sun.
Three nights.
Enough time to prepare.
Enough time to decide.
Enough time to remind Heaven
why kings were never judged quietly.
I smiled.
Cold.
Honest.
Three nights were generous.
I only needed one.