Chapter 45

Michael called out urgently, “Isaac!”

Allison looked worried, watching her brother shiver. “He’s freezing, Dad—he’s like ice.”

Argent knelt beside Isaac, trying to get his attention. “Isaac? Look at me. Isaac?”

Rachel’s voice trembled with concern. “What’s happening to him?”

Argent’s tone became more insistent. “Isaac, come on. Isaac, listen—you have to turn.”

He gripped Isaac’s shoulder firmly. “Look at me. You need to trigger it! Come on! Turn! Turn! Turn!”

Isaac growled shakily. “GRRRRRRR!”

After a moment, his voice softened, trembling. “Did you see them?”

Michael leaned closer. “Who?”

Isaac swallowed hard. “There were five of them… They wore black… I couldn’t see their faces, they were covered…”

Allison frowned. “What do you mean? Like, masks?”

Isaac’s eyes shifted nervously. “One of them… I could see his eyes… They were greenish-yellow, like a—like a firefly…”

Rachel frowned. “The security system wasn’t triggered.”

Michael frowned. “Then how did they get in?”

Isaac whispered, “They didn’t. It was like they came out of the shadows.”

Allison’s expression grew serious. “Do you know what that means?”

She looked to Argent. “Dad…?”

Argent hesitated. “Um… I’m not sure.”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Listen, the three of you… I need you to keep this quiet for a few hours.”

Isaac blinked. “From everyone?”

“Just twenty-four hours,” Argent said firmly.

Allison’s voice tightened with fear. “They could have killed him, Dad.”

Argent shook his head slowly. “But they didn’t… And I think there’s a reason why. I think they might have been after me.”

🦊

Agent McCall folded his arms, his eyes scanning the group seated in front of him. The tension in the room was palpable. Silver sat with his back straight, unusually still, his sunglasses nowhere in sight—leaving the stark damage in his eye visible under the harsh station lighting. No one commented, but everyone noticed.

“So,” Agent McCall began, his voice clipped with barely restrained suspicion. “When did you get there?”

“At the same time,” Stiles replied, a little too quickly.

“At the same time as who?” Rafael asked, his brow twitching as he fixed his gaze on the teen.

Stiles blinked. “At the same time as… me?”

“No,” Scott interjected, gesturing to himself. “At the same time as me.”

“By coincidence?” Rafael asked, his voice sharpening.

“What do you mean, ‘by coincidence’?” Stiles countered.

“That’s what I’m asking you. The three of you arrived at the same time—was that a coincidence?

“Are you asking me?” Stiles looked to Scott.

“I think he’s asking me,” Scott said.

“I think he’s asking the both of you,” Lydia added dryly.

Agent McCall exhaled through his nose and held up a hand. “Okay, let me answer the—no, wait. Let me ask the questions.” He paused, annoyed at himself. “Just so I have this absolutely clear… Barrow was hiding in the chemistry closet at the school. Someone left him a coded message on the blackboard telling him to kill Kira. Then Barrow took Kira and Ren to a power substation and tied them up with the intent to electrocute them, which blacked out the entire town?”

Everyone nodded. A silent chorus of guilty faces.

“Sounds about right,” Scott muttered.

Rafael narrowed his eyes. “How did you know he’d take her to a power station?”

Stiles shrugged, casual. “Well, because he was an electrical engineer. So where else would he take her?”

Rafael gave him a long, unimpressed look. “That’s one hell of a deduction there, Stiles.”

“Yeah, what can I say? I take after my pops.” Stiles flashed a grin, then winked toward his father, who covered a laugh with a cough.

“Stiles,” Sheriff Stilinski warned under his breath. “Just—just answer the man.”

“Look, we made a good guess,” Silver said calmly, speaking for the first time. Rafael turned to him, his eyes briefly catching on the boy’s exposed eye—scarred, discolored, unmistakable. Silver didn’t flinch under the stare.

“What were the four of you doing?” Rafael asked.

“Eating pizza,” Scott answered.

“Eating pizza,” Ren echoed, a bit too fast.

“Eating sushi,” Kira said hesitantly.

“Eating sushi,” Silver added.

There was a pause.

Silver and Scott said in unison, “…Eating pizza.”

Ren and Kira blinked, “…Eating sushi.”

Silver sighed, then looked directly at Agent McCall. “We were eating sushi and then pizza. Scott wasn’t a fan of the first option.”

Agent McCall narrowed his eyes, trying to read through the half-truths, but nodded slowly. “You believe this?” he asked, turning toward Stilinski.

The Sheriff didn’t hesitate. “To be honest? I haven’t believed a word Stiles has said since he learned how to speak.” He smirked. “But I think these kids found themselves in the right place at the right time—and that girl sitting there is very lucky for it.”

Rafael shifted his attention to Kira and Ren. “Kira? Ren? Is that how you remember it?”

Kira swallowed hard. The room had gone dead silent. All eyes landed on her, and she sucked in a breath.

“…Yes,” she said.

Everyone turned to Ren.

He blinked, then nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“Could I get my phone back now?” Kira asked and he sighed and shook his head, “Sorry, but no. Kira, a deputy is going to take you home. But we’ll need you to fill out some paperwork first.”

Rafael crossed his arms, eyes locked on Scott like he was trying to peel back layers. “Scott… I don’t know why you guys are lying,” he said, voice edged with irritation, “or why Stilinski is content to listen to this crap… but try to remember something—”

He stepped closer, his tone growing quieter, more serious. “If even half this story about Barrow is true, then not only did someone help set him loose… but he was a pawn in their little game. A mass murderer is bad enough. A mass murderer being controlled by someone?” He shook his head slowly. “That’s far worse.”

Scott shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I get it.”

Rafael studied him for a long second, then asked, “What was going on at dinner?”

Scott blinked. “Why?”

“Well,” Rafael said, tone just this side of pointed, “the four of you were at dinner.”

Scott tensed, not liking where this was going. “It was just dinner.”

“With Silver too,” Rafael added casually, like it was nothing—but his eyes said otherwise.

Scott’s jaw clenched. “Yeah.”

Rafael let the silence stretch. “You two… close?”

Scott’s eyes flicked to Silver across the room. Silver, sensing the attention, looked up briefly but didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to take him home,” Scott said, tone final.

Rafael held his gaze a moment longer, unreadable. Then he gave a tight nod. “All right. It’s a school night.”

🦊

The low growl of Scott’s bike quieted as he eased it to a stop outside Silver’s house. The night air was cool, but the silence between them was stifling—dense with everything unspoken since they’d left the station.

Silver swung his leg off the bike and handed Scott the helmet without meeting his eyes. “Thanks for the ride,” he muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Scott didn’t take the helmet right away. “Why don’t I stay tonight?”

Silver paused at the bottom of the steps, his back to him. “I’m tired, Scott. I just want to go to bed.”

“That’s fine,” Scott said quickly.

Silver turned, expression unreadable in the dim porch light. “I think you should go home.”

Scott stepped off the bike, concern edging his voice. “Silver—”

“Wouldn’t want you to deal with the half-blind kid all night,” Silver cut in, the words sharp and cold.

Scott flinched. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t.”

“You think I don’t wake up every day terrified that the next time I freeze up or miss something, someone I love is going to die?” Silver whispered. “I live with it, Scott. Every second. And tonight, you turned it into a weapon.”

Scott’s face crumpled, guilt flooding in fast. “Silver…”

Silver shook his head and stepped back toward the porch. “Go home, Scott.”

“Please,” Scott tried again, voice low. “Don’t shut me out.”

But Silver was already walking up the steps. “I don’t have to. You did it for me.”

The screen door creaked open, then shut with a soft click. The porch light went dark.

Scott stood there, helmet still in his hand, the sting of his own words burning in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know if tomorrow would fix it.

🦊

The courtyard of Beacon Hills High buzzed with low murmurs and nervous energy. The sky was overcast, and the lack of power had cast a strange, shadowy stillness over the morning.

Coach Finstock stood near the entrance, holding a bullhorn like it was a weapon of authority.

“Class starts in five minutes!” he barked through the bullhorn. “Just because there’s no power, don’t expect there to be no school!”

Stiles cringed and called out, “That was a triple negative. Very impressive, Coach.”

Coach didn’t skip a beat. “Copy that,” he replied into the bullhorn, oblivious.

Stiles muttered under his breath, turning as he nearly bumped into someone. “Oops… Hello. Where did you come from?”

Then he spotted Scott moving with purpose across the lot—his jaw tight, eyes locked on someone just out of view.

“No. No, stop! Stop!” Stiles hissed, jogging to catch up with him.

Scott barely looked at him. “What? I need to talk to him.”

“You need to remember he’s pissed at you right now.” Stiles warned, stepping in front of him.

“That’s why I need to talk to him.”

“Scott, no way! Don’t let your stupid jealousy get in the way and mess this up.”

Scott’s voice dropped, defensive but shaky. “I’m not jealous.”

Stiles gave him a look—pointed, skeptical. “Then why do you look like you’re two seconds from storming over there?”

Scott opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.

Across the courtyard, Silver turned. Like he’d heard them. Or just felt it. He stood beside his locker, adjusting the collar of his jacket, fingers twitching slightly. The sunglasses—his father’s—glinted under the gray light as he looked toward Scott and Stiles.

His expression didn’t shift. Didn’t flinch.

Then, without a word, he slammed his locker shut hard enough to echo across the bricks, turned, and walked away.

🦊

Silver stepped into the dimly lit hallway, the hum of broken lights flickering above him. His dad’s sunglasses sat perched on his nose, casting an intimidating shadow across the half of his face that wasn’t already ghosted by the blind eye glowing faintly under the lens.

He stopped when he saw Kira and Ren standing a few feet away near the lockers, whispering harshly back and forth. They hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I’m not asking him,” Kira snapped under her breath.

Ren rolled his eyes. “Why not? You grabbed an electrified wire, Ki. That’s not very subtle.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Kira turned to face him fully, voice clipped. “Because what if it changes things? What if it makes it worse?”

Silver cleared his throat, loud enough to cut through the tension. Both twins flinched and turned toward him. “What’s going on?”

Ren sighed and looked away. “Nothing. Just—nothing.”

Kira hesitated. “Do you have your phone?”

Silver blinked. “That was a sharp left turn. Yeah, why?”

“I want to show you something,” she said, quieter now. “Something no one else has seen… except for Barrow.”

The name made Silver go still. He slid his phone out of his pocket and handed it over without a word.

Kira held it in shaking hands. “Take a picture of me. Use the flash.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. Silver took a step back, raised the phone, and snapped the picture.

The flash lit up the hallway—and so did Kira.

Lines of glowing energy laced across her skin in the photo, like lightning trapped beneath her veins. Silver stared at the screen, then at her.

“…Whoa.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“What the hell is it?”

“I don’t know. It started showing up a couple months ago. But Barrow knew. He used my phone to take pictures of me.”

Silver’s face hardened as he listened, his annoyance barely contained. “So that’s why you wanted it back,” he muttered.

“If someone sees those photos—” she began, but Silver cut her off, voice low and firm, “They won’t. We’ll get it back.”

Ren looked skeptical and asked, “How? It’s at the police station.” Silver rolled his eyes and muttered, “Yeah, I know people who’ve broken in there before.”

🦊

“Okay, this one will get you into all the perimeter doors,” Stiles said, handing Scott a key card. “This one’s for the evidence room. And this one’s for my father’s office.” He handed over two more cards.

Scott’s eyes widened. “You didn’t steal these, did you?”

“No,” Stiles said with a smirk. “I cloned them using the RFID emulator.”

Silver furrowed his brows. “Isn’t that worse?” he asked.

Stiles pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It’s smarter,” he replied, glancing over at Silver, who hummed and nodded in reluctant agreement.

Just then, Kira and Ren appeared, pulling Scott and Silver aside from the Jeep. “Scott, Silver, can I ask you something?” she said.

Stiles scoffed from the side. “Okay, I’ll just…” He trailed off awkwardly as Silver laughed quietly, watching Stiles lean awkwardly on his Jeep.

“You didn’t tell him anything, did you? About the pictures?” Kira asked.

“Oh no! I said you have some pictures on your phone that you didn’t want anyone to see,” Silver answered.

“What kind of pictures?” Ren pressed.

Silver crossed his arms, shooting Scott an amused smirk. “Go ahead, Scott. Tell them.” he said, trying to suppress a laugh.

Scott flushed. “…Naked pictures,” he muttered awkwardly.

“Oh. Good idea!” Kira said brightly, making Scott visibly relieved while Silver scoffed.

“Okay, cool,” Scott said.

Silver led the three teens back to Stiles.

“Alright. So now almost everybody’s out dealing with the blackout, but there’s always someone at the front desk—dispatch and usually a night-shifter or two. You guys are gonna use the service entrance by the dumpster, alright? Nobody uses it. I’ll text you if anyone comes out, but Scott, if you get caught, I can’t help you. My dad’s under investigation for impeachment because of your dad, so if anything happens, I’m running and leaving you both for dead,” Stiles said, making Silver chuckle.

“Got it. Thanks. Seriously, dude,” Scott said, looking at Stiles. “I’d ask my dad, but, you know…”

Stiles trailed off, his gaze flickering between them.

“No, I know. I get it,” Scott nodded, trying to steady his voice despite the tension.

“Alright—just, uh, hurry up.”

Scott lingered near the Jeep, waiting for someone to join him. Stiles nudged Silver, motioning for him to go.

Ren stepped forward quietly. “I’ll come.”

Silver hesitated briefly, then said, “I guess I will too.”

Scott, Silver, and Ren exchanged quick glances before nodding and slipping away together.

The three teens snuck into the police station, keeping low and trying their best to stay hidden. Silver tapped Scott as they slipped into the evidence room. His eyes caught the phone immediately, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he picked it up and showed it to Scott.

“Uh, Scott?” he said quietly.

Scott sighed, watching the phone fail to power on. “It’s dead,” he said flatly.

“We have to take it,” Silver insisted, looking at him.

Scott shook his head anxiously. “No, they’ll know it’s gone.”

“Well, how do we charge it if the power’s out?” Silver asked, scanning the room.

“See if you can find a charger cable,” Scott instructed.

Silver nodded quickly and started searching, soon pulling one out from under some papers. Ren kept a lookout near the door, alert and watchful.

They rushed over to a computer. Scott powered it on, and a photo of a young Scott McCall with his dad appeared on the screen.

“Is that you?” Silver asked softly.

“It’s me and my dad,” Scott replied.

Silver chuckled, “You were a cute kid. -“

“I wonder what happened.” Ren teased.

Scott glared at Ren before he plugged in the phone and they started deleting the photos.

Once done, Silver, Scott, and Ren quietly slipped out of the police station and met up with Stiles and Kira by the Jeep.

“We did it! All the pics deleted!” Scott said, relief evident in his voice.

“That was awesome!” Silver exclaimed.

“I guess it’s time to go home?” Silver whispered, hesitation flickering in his eyes. “I’ll take you home.” Stiles whispered to Silver.

Before hopping into the passenger seat of Stiles’ Jeep Silver turned back suddenly. “Hey, you don’t want to go to a party, do you?”

🦊

“It just showed up on my key ring this morning,” Stiles said as they climbed the stairs to the loft. “I asked my dad if he put it there, but he swore he didn’t know anything about it.”

“It’s just a key, right?” Silver asked, eyeing him.

“Yeah, but it’s not mine,” Stiles muttered with a shrug. “And I have no idea how it got there—or what it’s for.”

“You want to leave? Figure it out somewhere quieter?” Scott offered.

“Uh…” Stiles trailed off, slowing as they reached the top step—and stopped in their tracks.

The loft doors were wide open, strobe lights pulsing from inside. Music blared. Dozens of teenagers danced beneath waves of UV body paint. A DJ spun tracks at the far end. The whole place glowed with color and chaos.

“Oh my god,” Silver muttered, blinking. “Derek is going to kill them.”

The five of them stood there, stunned—Scott, Silver, Stiles, Ren, and Kira—soaking in the wild party scene that had taken over the loft.

Then, a girl darted toward them. Caitlin. She threw her arms around Stiles and kissed his cheek. “Happy Halloween!” she shouted before disappearing back into the crowd.

Silver stepped back, eyes following Caitlin as Stiles grinned and slipped off into the mass of bodies and music. Kira and Ren drifted off toward a group of other teens, already falling into conversation. But Ren turned back, catching Silver’s eye.

Silver gave a small nod and pressed a finger to his lips.

Ren nodded in return, understanding, then turned back to his new conversation.

Scott turned around reaching back for Silver’s hand but the boy was no where to be seen. “Silver?”

The loft was packed wall to wall, the lights nearly all out except for the sporadic flash of strobe lights and the cold flicker of glow sticks. Music throbbed through the floor like a second heartbeat, so loud it made it impossible to think straight.

Scott pushed through the crowd, his werewolf eyes glowing red in brief pulses as he scanned the sea of sweaty, dancing bodies. His heartbeat quickened—not from the music, but because he knew exactly who he was searching for.

Then he saw him.

Silver stood near the middle of the dance floor, alone but surrounded. A strobe briefly lit him up in blue. He wasn’t dancing—just swaying slightly, head bowed, hands stuffed into the pockets of a jacket that didn’t look like it belonged to him. There was a tension in his shoulders, the kind that said he didn’t want to be seen but didn’t want to be alone either.

Scott weaved toward him, shouldering past a laughing couple, until he reached him.

“There you are!” Scott called, raising his voice over the music.

Silver looked up, squinting through the dark. “You looking for me?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah. You took off.”

Silver’s voice was flat. “It’s a party, not a hostage situation.”

“You disappeared,” Scott said, more quietly now.

Silver raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize I had to ask for permission to breathe.”

Scott flinched. Another strobe flashed, bathing them both in white light before plunging them back into shadow—alone in a crowd.

“That’s not what I meant,” Scott said.

“Then what did you mean?” Silver asked, eyes cold, unreadable.

Scott hesitated. The music crashed like a wave around them. Bodies danced, laughed, forgot. But he and Silver stayed still.

“I just want to protect you,” Scott said finally, honest and raw.

Silver laughed bitterly. “Don’t say things like that.”

Scott looked confused. “Why not?”

Silver’s jaw tightened. “Because I don’t believe you.”

Scott stepped closer. “Why?”

Silver finally met his eyes. “Because I’m not the guy people stay for, Scott. I’m the complication. I’m the lie. I’m the one they hide. You think just because we’re back to something, that it means something?”

Scott didn’t look away. He reached up and gently slipped Silver’s sunglasses off, letting his eyes truly see the party for the first time.

“It does,” Scott said softly. “At least to me.”

Silver shook his head, his voice rough. “You want me now. But what about when I fall apart again? When I say the wrong thing, or push too hard, or go too quiet for too long? What about when I stop being easy to like?”

Scott didn’t back down. He stepped closer. “Then I’ll still want you.”

Silver scoffed, looking away. “You say that now.”

“I’ll say it again tomorrow,” Scott said. “And the day after that. And when you fall apart—if you do—I’ll be there. You think I don’t have cracks too?”

Silver’s voice was quieter now. “Everyone leaves.”

Scott’s answer was soft but certain. “Then let me be the one who doesn’t.”

Silence settled between them.

Another strobe hit. In the split-second burst of light, Scott saw the shimmer in Silver’s eyes—a glint of wetness. It was gone just as quickly. Silver swallowed hard, shoulders rising and falling like he was holding something back. A scream. A sob. Something too heavy to carry.

“This… isn’t how I wanted this to happen,” Silver said finally.

Scott gave a faint smile. “I don’t care how it happens. I just want it to happen.”

The music pounded on, but between them, everything went still.

Scott stepped closer, voice gentle. “Silver… will you be with me? Can you please be mine?”

Silver stared at him.

Then, almost shyly, he nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Scott let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. And slowly—like gravity had finally won—they leaned into each other. No kiss. Not yet. Just presence. Just contact. Just the relief of no longer pretending they didn’t care.

Across the loft, Michael and Allison stood quietly, both watching Silver and Scott laughing near the far wall, surrounded by the hum of the Halloween party.

Allison smiled softly. “He looks happy,” she said, eyes never leaving her brother.

Michael nodded, his voice low. “Yeah… He found someone better.”

“Better than you?” she asked, glancing sideways at him.

Michael didn’t answer, just kept watching Silver.

Isaac jogged up to them, a little out of breath. “Hey—did you see Scott or Silver?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. They’re here.”

Isaac lowered his voice. “Did you tell him? About what happened?”

Before Michael could respond, Allison jumped in, tension flaring in her voice. “No. Not yet. We still have a couple hours. I promised my dad.”

Michael turned to her, his expression dark. “You promised your dad.”

“I promised to protect him,” she shot back.

“Isaac was attacked,” Michael said, stepping closer. “Who’s next?”

Isaac took a step back, trying to defuse the growing friction. “I’m just gonna… go.”

“No one’s next,” Allison said, almost too quickly. “But I’m not letting my brother run headfirst into danger when I just got him back.”

Michael’s voice dropped. “I thought getting him back meant no more lying to him.”

Allison’s jaw tightened. “Who started that?”

He stepped in, eyes locked on hers. “Don’t play this game with me, Liss.”

“You always do this,” she muttered. “You twist everything. You make it uncomfortable.”

Michael scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She didn’t answer.

He gave a dry chuckle. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I think you’re probably mad,” she said, folding her arms.

“I’m not mad,” Michael said, voice calm, almost teasing.

“No?” she challenged.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

She looked away for a moment, then sighed. “I’m frustrated.”

Michael smirked. “Sexually?”

Allison rolled her eyes but reached past him, grabbing a paintbrush off the table.

“Mind if I borrow this?” she asked coolly.

Michael didn’t respond. His gaze followed her every movement.

Allison turned back to him, voice barely above a whisper, eyes burning with challenge.

“So what is it, Michael? You want to go find my brother… or do you want to paint my body?”

Michael froze, heartbeat ticking loudly in his chest. A moment passed.

Then, softly—

“I want to paint your body.”

🦊

Silver and Scott sat shoulder to shoulder on the roof of Derek’s loft, the thrum of bass from the party below a steady rhythm beneath the stars. For the first time in forever, Silver wasn’t worrying about who might notice his eye. He only cared that Scott was looking at him—and not away.

“You’ve got some paint on you,” Scott said, pointing to Silver’s cheek under his left eye.

Silver rubbed at it quickly. “Still there?” he asked.

Scott squinted. “Yeah. Uh, let me…”

Silver raised an eyebrow as Scott reached over, wiping it gently with his thumb.

Silver let out a laugh. “Oh my God. Did you just mom me?”

“I did not mom you,” Scott protested.

“You totally did,” Silver grinned.

“Okay,” Scott chuckled, “maybe I slightly mom’ed you.”

The door creaked open behind them, and Kira and Ren stepped out. Ren was holding a soda can and already grinning.

Kira sat down beside Silver. “How are you so okay with all this?” she asked. “I showed you a photo that would’ve made anyone else bolt.”

Silver tilted his head. “Didn’t look that bad to me.”

Kira frowned. “I looked like a demon.”

“I guess I saw something different.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, smiling a little.

Silver gave a small nod. “It looked like it was protecting you. Like armor. And it didn’t look like a demon to me.”

Ren leaned forward. “Then what did it look like?”

Silver gave a half-smile. “A fox.”

Before anyone could reply, the rooftop door burst open again. Allison and Michael stumbled out laughing, Allison’s arms around his neck as he kissed her forehead. Michael dipped her with exaggerated flair before setting her back on her feet, both of them breathless and glowing.

Everyone turned to look, startled for a second—then Scott let out a laugh.

“Well, I guess they’re having a good night,” he said.

Kira smiled, nudging Silver. “Your sister looks happy.”

Silver rolled his eyes playfully. “She’s showing off.”

Ren grinned. “Yeah, but admit it—it’s kind of cute.”

Michael finally noticed the group and gave a dramatic bow, still holding Allison’s hand. “Sorry to interrupt your brooding.”

“Carry on,” Silver said dryly, but with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The laughter hadn’t even settled when a deep, guttural roar ripped through the night.

It echoed from inside the loft—raw, loud, and unmistakably inhuman.

Everyone froze.

Scott shot to his feet. “That was Derek.”

Silver was already moving. “Something’s wrong.”

Michael instinctively pulled Allison behind him as they rushed for the door. Kira and Ren exchanged a look, then bolted after the others.

They flew down the stairs two steps at a time, the music still thumping from the speakers inside but now clashing against the panic flooding their veins.

Scott was the first to reach the entrance to the loft. He shoved the door open—and stopped dead in his tracks.

The party was chaos. Teens backed away toward the walls, their faces painted and glowing under the blacklights, but all eyes were on the center of the room.

“Scott? What’s going on?” Silver shouted, his voice slicing through the ringing silence that followed the chaos.

“I don’t know!” Scott yelled back, his eyes darting across the now-abandoned loft.

The once-crowded party had cleared in seconds. All that remained were the Oni — faceless warriors cloaked in smoke — and the group, hearts pounding, breath held tight.

Then, all at once, the Oni turned. Every mask locked onto one person.

Aiden.

“Guys, they’re all looking at me.” His voice cracked, the usual bravado gone. “Why are they looking at me?”

A thick black mist curled around the Oni as they began to move.

Scott and Derek surged forward, but the creatures slipped through their attacks like vapor. Blades missed. Claws found nothing.

Silver didn’t hesitate. He charged beside Scott, fists swinging, trying to draw them off. But the Oni didn’t even flinch—dodging him like he was weightless.

Michael appeared from the opposite side, knife in hand. He lunged—only for an Oni to knock the blade clean from his grip and slam him to the floor. Michael groaned, sliding across the wood.

Isaac darted forward, reaching for Aiden—only to freeze as one Oni drew a glowing blade. Its eyes flashed green. Isaac backed off, shaking.

“Somebody do something!” Allison cried from across the loft.

But it was too late.

One of the Oni stepped forward, gripped the sides of Aiden’s head. Its glowing eyes bore into his skull—unyielding, cold.

Aiden gasped.

His body stiffened.

Then crumpled to the ground.

Silence.

Everything stopped. The Oni turned in perfect unison—this time, to Scott.

Silver crept closer, breath ragged, slipping in beside Kira. His eyes scanned the room, tension pressing into every inch of his skin.

Scott’s gold eyes burned in the dark. He looked to Kira—her sword trembling—then to Silver.

Silver hesitated, stepping forward, just a little.

Two Oni tilted their heads in eerie sync.

“…They’re watching me,” he whispered.

Michael, dragging himself upright, winced and followed their gaze. They hadn’t moved. They were focused. On Silver.

And then—

The overheads surged—blinding white for a second too long.

The Oni were gone.

Smoke curled up where they stood. Nothing more.

Everyone stood frozen.

Silver’s heart pounded in his ears. “What the hell were those things?” he said, voice low, shaken.

Michael exhaled hard, eyes still fixed on the empty space.

“…Your dad’s twenty-four hours are up.”