The city felt... different.
Quieter. Not peaceful. Never peaceful. But... tense. Like the shadows themselves were holding their breath.
I moved through the backstreets with a different step now. Lighter. Quieter. Not just walking — stalking. My body responded without thought. Ears sharper. Eyes catching flickers of movement no normal human could.
Every heartbeat within fifty meters pulsed against my skin like sonar. I could smell things I never noticed before — rot under the pavement, rust on fire escapes, blood dried weeks ago.
This is what I am now.
Something neither human... nor fully monster.
I paused under a broken streetlamp, staring at my reflection in a rain puddle.
The face was still mine... mostly. Same black hair. Same sharp jawline. Same tired eyes. But beneath the surface... the Veil burned. Crimson flickers in my irises. Faint vein lines darkening when I focused too hard.
I look normal. I don't feel normal.
A sound snapped me out of it.
Screeching. Wet. Low. Like bone scraping metal.
I shifted — ducked behind a dumpster — senses flaring. Something was near.
There — across the street.
A figure. Thin. Too thin. Bent backward — joints wrong. Pale skin stretched tight over its frame. Its head twisted in an impossible angle, sniffing the air. Its eyes glowed faint blue — not like Aswang — something lesser. A Veil wraith.
It hadn't seen me yet.
It sniffed... jerked its head side to side... then dropped to all fours, crawling toward a cracked manhole.
I could let it go.
It wasn't hunting me. It wasn't hunting anyone. Probably scavenging.
But... something inside me itched. A pull. A whisper.
Predator.
My fingers flexed. Claws slid out smooth, natural. My muscles tensed, coiled.
Before I knew it — I moved.
Silent. Fast.
One step. Two. Launch.
I hit it mid-spine — slammed it into the asphalt. It shrieked — a high, broken sound — its claws scrabbled.
I drove my elbow into the back of its skull — claws plunged into its chest — ripped sideways.
Black ichor sprayed. The creature convulsed — then went still.
Its body twitched... then dissolved into ash and shadow.
Fast. Clean. Efficient.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
I stood over where it had been — breathing slow.
The Core in my chest throbbed — not with hunger. Not this time.
With... satisfaction.
Is this what it means... to be this?
I cleaned my claws off on my jacket, flexing my fingers as they slid back into flesh.
A soft chime echoed. A sound that didn't belong to the Veil.
...Phone?
I turned, following the sound. A shape. Someone standing on a rooftop edge across the street — silhouetted against the neon haze.
Tall. Slim.
Long hair flicked in the wind. A side ponytail. A leather jacket.
A silver glint around her neck.
She stood there, one hand holding a phone to her ear, the other resting casually on her hip... where a dagger hilt caught the glow of a passing car.
I ducked back, heartbeat spiking.
Who—?
Her voice floated across the air — too far for a normal person to hear. But my ears weren't normal now.
"...Yeah. I'm in Zone 7. Traces confirm recent activity. Scans caught residual Veil signatures... strong ones." Her voice was calm. Cold. Professional.
She paced slowly, scanning the streets. Her tone sharpened.
"...It's recent. Less than 24 hours. Possible rogue. Possibly... a hybrid."
My breath hitched. Hybrid. Me.
"...No. I don't have eyes on yet. But if it's out here... I'll find it."
Her gaze swept toward the alley — toward me.
I melted back into the shadows. Veil cloak wrapping around me like instinct.
"...Orders?" she asked. A pause. "Capture if possible... kill if not. Understood."
The line cut. She lowered her phone — slid it into her pocket — then tapped a bracelet on her wrist.
A faint shimmer. A ward activated.
Hunter.
No doubt now. A professional. Her equipment was subtle — not flashy. Not mystical nonsense. Practical. Efficient. Deadly.
She turned. Jumped — landing light on the rooftop ledge — then vanished into the next street over.
I didn't follow. Couldn't.
Not because I was afraid... but because something colder settled in my spine.
She's hunting me.
Not yet knowing it. But soon.
A strange feeling twisted in my chest. Not panic. Not dread.
Fascination.
Her voice. Her posture. The way she moved. Controlled. Sharp. Dangerous. Beautiful.
The Core inside me pulsed — not with hunger... with something else.
Curiosity. Pull. Gravity.
A predator... drawn to another.
Not prey. Not threat.
Something... in between.
Who are you... silver-eyed hunter?
And more terrifying than anything...
Why do I hope we meet again?