BLACK HOLLOW STREET
The car came to a stop, tires hissing softly against the wet asphalt. Lyric stepped out, her black boots hitting the pavement with purpose. In one hand, she held the glass container, the three hearts within still pulsating with a low, rhythmic thump. She glanced around and spotted a matte black van parked just beside an old warehouse.
A smirk tugged at her lips.
"Elena," she whispered.
She made her way to the van and opened the back doors. Sure enough, Elena sat inside, cross-legged, her silver laptop open, fingers moving fast. The moment Lyric stepped in and shut the door behind her, the air changed.
"Update the message," Lyric said flatly.
Elena looked up. "Which message?"
Lyric's cold stare was all the answer she got.
"The one about the Dork Cartel planning to hit the hospital," she said icily.
Elena scoffed, shaking her head. "Their elder is dead," she said, pointing to one of the hearts in the glass container. "So… who exactly would've made that call?"
Lyric didn't flinch, but her jaw tightened slightly.
"I lied," Elena added with a shrug. "I had to. You wouldn't have let anyone touch that stab wound otherwise."
As the van began to move, bumping slightly as they turned onto the next street, Elena knelt down beside Lyric and carefully lifted her blood-soaked shirt. The wound was deep—flesh torn, the blood clotted unevenly. A normal person would have been crying or passed out from the pain.
But Lyric sat with her eyes closed, serene like a resting goddess. Not a sound escaped her lips.
"You're not normal, you know that?" Elena muttered, cleaning the area with antiseptic.
Lyric didn't answer.
As she wrapped the final layer of gauze, Elena tapped her gently. "We've reached the villa."
Lyric opened her eyes and stood without a word. She stepped out of the van, still holding the glass container like it was something sacred, and walked through the wrought-iron gates of the villa. The guards bowed slightly, recognizing her immediately.
She entered the house, sleek and modern with obsidian tiles and dim gold lighting, and headed straight to the elevator. She pressed the button for the third floor.
Ding!
The doors opened. She stepped in alone, waited in silence, then walked straight to the third room on the right when the doors parted again. She placed her finger on the scanner.
Beep. Access granted.
She entered her heart collection chamber—a room bathed in soft blue light, sterile and quiet. Glass shelves lined the walls, each one holding a suspended heart in a sealed pod, all of them still beating faintly.
She walked slowly to the shelf labeled "Vengeance," scanning the pods.
Three empty slots waited for her. Perfect.
She gently placed one heart into each pod, watching as the temperature regulators sealed around them and oxygenated gel pumped in. Their pulses steadied.
"Beautiful," she whispered, almost reverently.
After a few adjustments to the controls to ensure longevity, she turned and exited the room.
Back in her own suite, she walked into the bathroom, not bothering to remove her clothes until she reached the tub. She stripped slowly, revealing her lean, scarred body—powerful, delicate, and worn like a blade used far too many times.
Her fingers hovered over the bandage, then she sighed and tore it off. Blood had soaked the gauze slightly. She stepped into the steaming bath and winced as the water kissed her wounds.
Then, she laid herself down slowly in the tub, submerging completely until only her face remained above water. Her eyes stared at the ceiling.
Finally, she let herself feel.
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ST. SERAPHINA'S HOSPITAL
In a clean, sunlit hospital ward, Aria and Nora sat on the bed with Lilian, their textbooks and notebooks spread across the blankets. Lilian had her leg propped up, but her mind was clearly elsewhere as the two girls busily scribbled down answers for tomorrow's assignment.
"I still don't get something," Nora said, flipping her pen between her fingers. "Why do you and Lyric have different surnames if you're sisters?"
Lilian smiled. "We're cousins. My mom, Regina Garcia, is Lyric's dad's younger sister."
Aria nodded, and Nora frowned. "Still, Lyric's scary. That boy she slammed into the wall? He's in a vegetative state now."
"I warned them not to bully others," Lilian muttered, her tone sharper now. "But no, they didn't listen."
"But she spared the A⁴," Aria said in a whisper.
Lilian laughed, the sound rich with mischief. "Oh, you didn't hear? Turns out, all of A⁴'s sisters and even Asher's girlfriend were stranded in the Sahara Desert for three days. No water. No food."
The girls stared at her, mouths wide open.
"Wait… she did that? To them?"
"Yup," Lilian said, almost proudly. "And the rich families can't even touch her. She's untouchable. You've got to admit, she's got style."
"She's… she's heartless," Nora said, both in awe and horror.
Lilian nodded. "And I love her for it."
But as the girls went back to their assignment, Lilian's mind wandered. What if Lyric had actually gone through with that old threat? Live-streamed those girls being raped… A chill ran down her spine. She walks a line even I can't see sometimes.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number. But she recognized the ringtone. She smiled and answered.
A deep, masculine voice filled her ear. "I heard my little princess was bullied, and Lyric handled it… but you had to interfere."
She grinned. "I didn't interfere. I pacified."
"When am I coming back?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered. "When?"
"This evening," the man replied. "And I'm bringing Leo and Liam."
Lilian rolled her eyes. "Great. Can't wait to see how Lyric reacts."
"She'll be fine," he said, his tone final. "And as for those two… I'll make sure they don't fight anymore."
She nodded. "We'll see."
She ended the call just as Nora asked, "Who was that?"
"My daddy figure," she said with a small smile.
They had just returned to their assignment when the door opened again.
Lyric walked in.
Dressed in black jeans, a black crop top under a black leather jacket, and a black face mask that matched her soul. Her presence was magnetic, chilling, and absolute.
Everyone fell silent.
"Hey," Lilian said, lifting her hand slightly.
Lyric gave a nod, her eyes scanning the room. She walked over and sat by the window, pulling out her phone.
Aria whispered to Nora, "She's like a phantom."
"No," Lilian replied without looking. "She's a storm."