From the edge of the grand hallway, behind a half-veiled column wrapped in ivy and soft lighting, Naomi and Elena stood silent—re witnesses to sothing they weren't supposed to see.
The aftermath of Vivian's silence-breaking mont still lingered in the air like the scent of scorched parchnt and pride. Ere, or at least… the version of her that had just bowed like a high priestess to a dark god, had already vanished into the hallway, her voice still echoing in their bones.
In the room beyond, Vivian sat still, scrolling again as if the walls hadn't just spoken for her. As if she hadn't just snapped an Olympian Champion into submission without so much as a raised brow. And across from her, Evelyn and Annabelle watched in awe—shoulders low, breathing quiet, their eyes still trying to compute what had happened.
Elena and Naomi exchanged glances. They didn't need to speak. They turned to each other, eyes wide with a single unified thought that spoke louder than anything the mansion had just heard:
"He wasn't lying."
Parker had told them—half warnings, half joking—about her. About the girl who didn't speaks so much, who never flinched, who drifted through the world like gravity didn't know what to do with her. The one he said they should never cross as she could kill them with a single stare.
They'd thought maybe he exaggerated.
But now?
All it took was a look.
Not an attack. Not a threat. Just a gaze—empty, detached, and utterly apathetic—and Atalanta, the Champion of Olympus, had crumbled beneath pressure so imnse it cracked marble and vaporized Ether.
And yet the girl responsible had remained calm. Unbothered. Restrained, even.
The word 'ant' had never sounded more accurate.
They all knew what Atalanta was capable of. She could snap her fingers and level a mansion. She'd told them how weak the buildings here were as she'd once broken a skyscraper's upper floors with a casual leap. And yet, that sa terrifying demigoddess had been reduced to a kneeling silence by the simplest of glances.
No magic. No fire. Just Vivian.
Naomi and Elena stepped back slowly, almost unconsciously, like their bodies didn't want to be noticed in a room where noticing ant danger. They moved with deliberate caution, drifting toward the side hallway where Atalanta had disappeared into the black spiral.
They needed to check on her.
Just as they reached the corridor, Ere stumbled out—her fur matted slightly, her golden eyes wide, her body shaking as she panted like she'd just outrun death itself. This ti… it was truly her.
No Levi and her ancient voice this ti.
Just Ere.
Naomi imdiately dropped to one knee, scooping the small creature into her arms like a mother shielding a child from rain. "Ere—what happened? You okay?"
Ere blinked up, barely able to speak between exhausted huffs. "You ever… stand so close to a nuke, you can hear your bones weep? I can even survive a nuke but..." Her voice cracked with pure dramatized suffering. "I was about to turn into paste."
Elena winced. "Wait, that was Levi in control of your body, right? How's that possible. She's not in control anymore, right?"
"Nope," Ere gasped, paw twitching, "Levi dipped so fast. Said sothing about self-preservation being her priority. Bastard left in the blast zone!"
Naomi laughed nervously and held her tighter. "Thank you… for helping Atalanta."
But Ere just shook her head. "That wasn't . Don't thank ." Her voice dropped slightly, darker now. "That woman was going to kill her. Really kill her. All for calling her 'Blackwood.'"
There was no sarcasm in her tone.
Only clarity.
Elena's fur turned pale, and Naomi nodded slowly. They believed it. Vivian hadn't made a scene.
She'd simply made a point.
And the scariest part?
She hadn't even tried.
They all rembered what Parker had told them before. He didn't speak of Vivian with caution.
He spoke of her with strategy.
"Make friends with Evelyn and Annabelle if you can," he had told them. "But please don't get on Vivian's bad side."
What he hadn't warned them about…
And Atalanta who had only ant to greet her—a simple hello, a mark of respect, maybe even a show of goodwill. Nothing threatening. Nothing offensive—But apparently, Vivian Blackwood didn't give a damn about intentions.
She cared about one thing—words.
And apparently, calling her 'Blackwood' was about as suicidal as handing your soul over to the Grim Reaper personally, with a neat little bow on top.
After they finally made it far enough away—tucked into the side corridor where the oppressive aura didn't weigh down the air like wet lead—Elena leaned against the wall, Naomi still holding Ere close, her face screwed up in confusion.
She turned down to Ere, whispering in that half-panicked, half-bewildered voice people used after surviving a natural disaster they didn't quite understand.
"But… why?" she asked. "Why doesn't she want to be called Blackwood? Isn't that like her na?"
Ere sighed. A deep, suffering sigh, like she was already tired of trying to explain the chaos of the world she'd been dumped into. She pawed at Naomi's sleeve and flopped dramatically into her lap. "It's… complicated," she muttered. "And by complicated, I an the stupidest, most fucked-up level of complicated you can imagine."
Naomi and Elena leaned closer, both instinctively lowering their voices like kids listening to ghost stories under a blanket.
Ere shook her tiny head and grumbled, "Everything about these dumb Bloodlines is complicated as hell. Drama, curses, secret rules, grudges that outlast civilizations. And out of everyone? You wanna stay away from three nas if you value breathing normally."
She lifted a paw like counting off nas on fingers.
"Vivian Blackwood. Maya Ravencroft. Zhang Ruoyun."
The maids froze.
They already knew about Maya. Knew the stories Parker had quietly slipped them—the ones that didn't sound real until tonight. How Maya could erase souls completely—no reincarnation, no afterlife, no cosmic second chances—with a thought.
And that was considered the gentle side of her abilities.
The horror they hadn't seen yet?
That was when Maya got serious.
Naomi tightened her arms around Ere slightly, feeling the weight of those casual warnings settle in her spine.
But Zhang Ruoyun?
That was new.
Elena frowned. "Wait… Zhang Ruoyun? You an the half-masked one? She's…?" She and her family were the only Asians here save Parker so it was easy to figure out who Ere was aning.
Ere nodded grimly. "You don't know the half of it. And trust , you don't wanna." Her tail twitched once, like she was fighting the urge to bolt at just the ntion of the na.
"She looks quiet, pretty, mysterious, all that fancy shit," Ere whispered. "But don't be fooled. She's like a landmine wrapped in silk—ancient silk." Her voice dropped even lower. "There are things about her that even the Bloodlines don't talk about out loud." Thanks to Levi, Ere was well inford now.
Naomi and Elena shared another quick look.
Great.
One could delete you from existence.
One could make gods kneel without blinking.
And the third…?
The third, apparently, was still an unknown bomb no one wanted to test.
Parker hadn't warned them about Zhang Ruoyun.
And maybe that was the worst warning of all.
The warning that never ca.
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