Vex woke to sterile white walls and the soft hum of machines.
His body ached, bruises covering his arms and ribs. Rain, alley, shadow… all replayed in his mind like a nightmare he couldn't wake from.
He tried to sit up, but the nurse—young, calm, professional—pressed a hand on his shoulder.
"Take it easy, Mr. Vex. You've been through a lot," she said, voice soothing.
Vex flinched, every instinct screaming.
"Where—where am I?" he demanded.
"City General," she replied softly. "You're safe now. Rest is what you need."
He looked around. Nurses moved through the ward, machines beeped. Everything seemed normal. Too normal.
Somewhere far away, Raina's eyes tracked him. Live feeds from the hospital cameras fed into her control room. She saw him lying there, vulnerable, unaware of what was approaching.
And then she saw her first hint.
A shadow slipping past the security camera in the corridor. Just one figure—lean, deliberate, precise. Not a nurse, not hospital staff. But moving with perfect care, like a predator stalking prey.
Vex smiled weakly at the nurse near his bed. "Thanks… I don't know how I can repay you."
The nurse tilted her head, expression calm, almost comforting.
"Just rest. That's all we ask."
Vex exhaled, letting himself relax for the first time in days.
And then—chaos.
The nurse moved closer, tools in hand, her motions smooth, practiced.
Vex's eyes widened.
"Wait—what are you—"
It was too late.
A sharp prick in his neck, and the world tilted. His muscles froze, body betraying him.
Raina's monitor exploded with motion alerts. Albert moved to intervene, but even he couldn't interfere directly in real time.
Vex struggled, panic filling his chest.
"No! Please! I—I'll tell you anything!"
The nurse's expression didn't change. Professional. Cold. Methodical.
Vex's vision blurred, consciousness slipping.
Raina gritted her teeth.
She could see everything—the killer's approach, the method, the precision—but not the face. Whoever had gotten to Selena before him was just as careful, just as lethal, and now Vex was paying the price.
The monitors showed him gasping, flailing weakly, fading beneath the shadow of someone who wanted no trace, no evidence.
The nurse checked the machines, adjusted IVs, wiped fingerprints off the bed rails—every move flawless.
"They think they're in invisible," Raina murmured, voice sharp as ice.
Albert watched the screens silently, tense.
"Miss… he's… gone?"
Raina's hand hovered over the console, not daring to move.
"Not just gone," she said softly, jaw tight. "Erased."
The figure—her invisible killer—moved like smoke through the ward, leaving no trace of entry, no sign of struggle, no clue for security cameras.
Raina's eyes narrowed.
"They are covering their tracks. Perfectly. Professional. Calculated."
She exhaled, the sharp edge of her mind turning over possibilities.
"But…" she whispered, almost to herself, "they don't know me yet. They don't know what comes next."
And then her lips curved into the faintest smile, cold and precise:
"The game has only just begun."