The matte-black SUV truck sliced through the dense, rolling fog along the interstate, leaving the chaotic red and blue strobes of the university far behind.
After twenty minutes of silent driving through the rain-slicked darkness, Claire pulled the heavy vehicle into the wide, sweeping drive of the Huntington Center in downtown Columbus.
The sprawling complex, known across the region for its massive glass facade, polished granite pillars, and bustling ground-floor transit concourse, was currently packed with weary travelers and displaced civilians seeking shelter from the unexpected campus lockdown.
Claire brought the SUV to a smooth stop right at the grand entrance under the brightly lit porte-cochère. The automatic double doors slid open, revealing the warm, golden glow of the interior. The group stepped out into the damp midnight air, shaking the moisture from their coats.
Lira motioned toward the uniformed bellhop waiting by the luggage carts.
"Take these up to the upper tower suites," she instructed smoothly, handing him the baggage claim slips.
"The reservations are pre-cleared under the primary ledger."
The bellhop nodded crisp, loading their heavy leather duffels and hard-shell cases onto the brass trolley before wheeling it through the lobby.
As they crossed the threshold into the grand atrium, a striking figure stepped out from the lounge area to greet them. It was Damon. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored navy blue waistcoat over a crisp, fitted white shirt, looking every bit the refined gentleman despite the bleak, torrential downpour outside. Given that barely four hours had passed since he had vanished from the blood-stained grass of the North Quad, his completely pristine, unbothered appearance was almost surreal.
He approached the group with a calm, charming smile, holding a stack of plush, heated white hand towels.
"You look like you've had a rough transit," Damon said softly, offering a warm towel to each of them to dry their wet hair and coats. He then turned to the front desk attendants hovering nearby.
"I'll handle their check-in process personally. Everything has already been authorized."
Holly wiped her hair, looking him up and down before flashing a bright thumbs-up. "Nice vest, Damon. You actually look like functioning royalty."
Claire, on the other hand, just stared at him in complete disbelief as they accepted the room keys. "How on earth did you pull this off in four hours?" she whispered in awe.
"Securing an entire wing at the Huntington during an emergency closure usually takes half a day's worth of administrative clearing and physical signatures. You worked actual magic."
Damon simply offered a subtle, knowing wink, gesturing for them to follow him toward the glass express elevators.
As they walked across the ground floor, the real-world scale of the Huntington Center stretched out around them. High above, the soaring multi-story atrium featured exposed steel trusses and expansive skyways connecting the commercial towers.
The sleek marble floorboards echoed under their boots, reflecting the soft, recessed architectural lighting. Around the central fountain and the ground-floor coffee lounges, dozens of stranded travelers sat chatting quietly over warm drinks, completely oblivious to the supernatural anomaly that had forced the girls out into the night.
The elevator chimed, its glass doors sliding open to reveal the city skyline obscured by rain. They stepped inside, the lift rising smoothly into the high-rise tower toward their reserved suites, leaving the chaos of the university buried in the fog below.
The glass express elevator glided upward through the core of the Huntington Center, the hum of its hydraulic cables muted by thick, soundproofed shafting. Below them, the multi-tiered concourse shrank into a grid of polished geometric light, geometric stone, and moving crowds.
When the doors slid open onto the twentieth floor, the atmosphere shifted entirely. The chaotic rumble of the ground-floor concourse yielded to the quiet, dignified air of an elite hospitality wing. Thick, slate-blue carpeting swallowed the sound of their boots, while indirect brass sconces cast a warm, buttery light against patterned damask wallpaper.
As the group moved down the long corridor behind Damon, they encountered several other guests navigating the midnight influx. Travelers displaced by the sudden campus shutdown wandered the halls with heavy coats slung over their arms. Among them stood a familiar face, Clara, a senior from the university's natural sciences department, standing near a ice machine alcove while chatting anxiously with her roommate.
Clara looked up as the group approached, her eyes widening slightly in recognition.
"Rein? Claire? You guys got pulled out of the dorms too?"
"Hey, Clara," Claire offered, giving a brief, polite nod without breaking her stride.
"Yeah, standard evacuation protocol. Glad you guys found a spot."
"Stay safe," Rein added softly, offering a faint, sympathetic smile as they passed by.
Clara looked at them with a smile then whispers to her friend as she saw them walk away. He interest particularly was on Damon whom she had previously seen in a waistcoat dress and now once again he looked even more magnificent than he did the previous time.