The Villains Must Win

Selis stifled a laugh behind her hand. "Well, that was . . . satisfying." She couldn't decide what was funnier—Lucian's deadpan death threats or the way he weaponized discipline like it was pepper spray.

Couldn't really blame the girls, to be honest. Lucian was absurdly handsome—like, unfairly attractive. The kind of hot that made you question your morals, your dignity, and possibly your religion.

Especially when he was fighting vampires. That cold, focused expression? The way he moved like a sword wrapped in thunder? Disrespectful.

Sure, he was rude, intimidating, and looked like he could kill you with a single glance (and honestly, he probably could). But that just added to the appeal. He wasn't your typical cool, stoic, silent man. He was the final boss.

So, naturally, girls still fawned over him. Despite the death glares. Despite the growling. Despite the fact that his idea of flirting was telling you to stand up straighter and stop breathing so loud.

Too bad, though. Because Lucian only cared about two things: killing vampires . . . and killing more vampires.

Romance? He'd probably stab it in the heart just to be safe.

====

Twenty minutes later, Selis stood at the outpost gate with Unit Delta.

They were tall, armored, and looked like they could all bench-press a cathedral. She stood in the back, feeling like someone had dropped a confused maid into an elite war party.

The team leader, a woman named Captain Marris, gave her a curt nod. "Stay close. Stay quiet. If you fall behind, we don't come back for you."

"Comforting," Selis muttered. "Truly, I feel welcomed."

The journey to the chapel was grim and silent. Crimson moss crawled along dead trees. The air grew colder with every step, like the earth itself had forgotten the sun.

When they arrived, the chapel was a skeletal ruin of broken spires and shattered stained glass. The air stank of rot and something worse—a thick, metallic tang of dried blood and old hatred.

"This place gives me the creeps," someone muttered.

"Good," Marris said. "Means you're still alive."

Selis gripped her dagger tight, heart pounding like it was trying to punch its way out of her chest. She scanned the ruined chapel, the silence pressing in from all sides like a held breath.

There was no warning. No visions. No helpful game-style prompts. Just instincts, nerves, and the rising sense that something was deeply, horribly wrong.

The others spread out, weapons ready. Dust floated lazily in the beams of dying sunlight filtering through the broken roof.

Then—snap.

A twig cracked.

Everyone froze.

"Movement," Marris said sharply. "Positions!"

From the shadows, they poured in—vampires. Dozens.

Far too many for a nest this size. They moved like smoke given form, crawling over stone and creeping through the dark with glowing eyes and gleaming fangs.

"It's a trap!" someone shouted.

"Fall back!" Marris roared.

Selis reached for her dagger—but her body locked up. A chill crept up her spine, ice cold and crawling, because standing in the far end of the chapel, half-wreathed in gloom, was a figure.

Tall. Pale. Handsome. Eyes burning like coals in the dark. Dressed in flowing black robes threaded with silver that shimmered like starlight on a moonless night.

Salister.

She didn't need a flashback to recognize him. No memory from a game. It was instinctual—her skin knew before her brain did. And he was looking right at her.

A smirk tugged at his lips. Small. Knowing. Like he'd been waiting just to see her.

Then he was gone. The shadows swallowed him whole.

Selis didn't have time to think of what happened and why Salister looked at her like he knew her.

At that exact moment, chaos erupted.

The vampires lunged from the shadows like a black tide, fangs gleaming, claws slashing. Steel met flesh. Screams tore through the night.

Lucian wasn't there.

He was miles away, safe at HQ, probably pacing stone halls and glaring at maps—completely unaware that Delta Squad was being torn apart.

There was no blur of silver cutting through the dark. No holy grenades exploding like miniature suns. Just them—Selis and Delta Squad—outnumbered, outmatched, and drowning in a tide of fangs.

Selis ducked as a vampire lunged, its claws missing her face by inches. She retaliated with her dagger, slashing wild.

To her left, Marris was holding position with desperate ferocity, yelling for the recruits to fall back. Two of them barely even knew how to hold their weapons. One tripped on his own feet. The other screamed once before his neck was ripped open and silence swallowed him.

They were getting overwhelmed. Fast.

"Fall back! Fall back to the chapel!" Marris shouted, his sword flashing.

But the chapel was already compromised—its walls cracked, its doors splintered, the exits swarming with pale shadows.

Selis struck down another attacker, but her arms ached and her chest heaved. She could feel the panic starting to rise.

This wasn't a battle. This was a slaughter.

And they weren't going to survive.

Was she going to die here and loose ten stars?

Dying again in a Rank-A world. She was unwilling.

Maybe . . . maybe she could talk. Bargain. Switch sides. She wasn't weak. She could offer something. Her knowledge. Her loyalty. Her blood, if that's what it took.

Better a vampire than dead, right? What's more, she could probably meet Salister.

Her grip on her weapon faltered for half a second. The screaming faded into a strange kind of hush.

She wasn't sure what side she stood on anymore.

And the worst part?

She wasn't sure which side she wanted to win.

The chapel was a graveyard in the making.

Blood slicked the floors, the air choked with the stench of death and iron. Screams overlapped, cut short by gurgles, then silence.

One by one, the hunters fell. The young recruits didn't stand a chance—some didn't even manage to raise their blades before fangs sank into their necks or claws gutted them like livestock.

Selis saw Garrin—loud, cocky Garrin—get dragged down by three vampires. He didn't scream. Just stared at her with wide, terrified eyes until his throat was ripped out.

Oh, shit. Selis thought. She was okay with gore, but this was too much even for her.