In Varrith, a city bathed in perpetual twilight and fractured between neon towers and rusted ruins, the fragile balance between vampires and werewolves teeters on collapse. The Veil—a warped realm that twists reality and magnifies emotion—bleeds into the streets, bending instinct, desire, and memory. Seth, a rare vampire-werewolf hybrid, ventures into the Shattered Fountain Veil Zone. There, he encounters Selene, a calculating vampire whose ambition and control clash with his own, and Rava, a primal werewolf who tests his strength and instinct at every turn.



Ali's scream cuts through everything, high-pitched and raw with shock. “NO!”
She drops to her knees beside Sam's still form, fingers trembling as she searches for a pulse. When she finds none, her face contorts with grief and rage.
“You bastard!” she snarls, scrambling to her feet and launching herself at me.
She attacks wildly, her nails raking across my face, her fists pounding against my chest. I try to fend her off, but she's relentless, driven by a fury born of sudden loss.
“What have you done?” she shrieks, tears mixing with the spittle flying from her lips. “He was the last of my family! The last person I cared about!”
I manage to grab her wrists, pinning them to her sides as she kicks and struggles against me. But her anger is starting to give way to exhaustion, her movements becoming weaker.
“Why?” she sobs, her voice cracking. “Why did you have to kill him?”

I try to control the adrenaline coursing through my veins, “Stop! Shut the fuck up!” I hiss into her ear trying to stop her from yelling.
“Not far. We'll take the alleyways. It'll add a bit of time, but it's safer than the main streets,” Ali replies, her eyes darting between the shadows.
We continue through the maze of alleys, occasionally pausing to listen for any signs of pursuit. The city feels empty and haunted in the moonlight, as though we're the only ones left.
As we near our destination, Ali's pace quickens. She leads us into a narrow passageway between two buildings.
“There,” she whispers suddenly, pointing to a fire escape on the side of an old apartment building. “That's it. We can get in through the third floor.”
She moves toward the rusted metal ladder, but pauses before starting to climb. “Listen, Seth. I know you saved me back there, but we need a plan.”
Her expression is grim. “So here's what's going to happen. We hole up here for the day. Rest, regroup. Then tomorrow, we move. I have a safe house on the outskirts of the city. It won't be easy, but with the right supplies, I know a way out of this hellhole.”
She holds my gaze steadily. “What do you say? Are you with me?”
I weigh my options. She's right about the danger outside, but trusting a stranger in these times… it's risky. Still, she seems to know the area, and we did just save each other's lives.

“No. I'm staying in the city for now, we don't have a vehicle, supplies for long term survival nor the ammo.” I climb the ladder behind her trying not to look at her instead around us in case we were follow by that man.
“You can leave if you want to” I huff as I climb.
The city of Varrith never truly sleeps, but tonight its heartbeat drags through rain-soaked streets like a wounded predator. Neon signs flicker in protest, puddles reflecting fractured light in jagged shards across cracked asphalt. Broken scaffolding leans like the bones of some colossal beast, and alleyways twist like veins through the city’s decayed flesh. Every shadow feels alive; every echo carries intent. The Veil hums faintly, a low vibration against my skin, tugging at instincts I barely control.
I move between puddles, boots slick on wet stone, senses coiled. The hybrid inside me stirs, wolf and vampire instincts straining against one another. The wolf urges me to strike, to assert dominance, to claim territory. The vampire whispers patience, calculation, precision. Fingers brush the hilt of my dagger, the edge of a vial strapped to my chest. Hunger, anticipation, and the faint thrill of danger ripple through my veins.
Movement flickers at the mouth of a half-collapsed alley. Violet eyes flash from shadow—Selene Vael. Porcelain skin glistening from rain, long black hair plastered to her face. Her lithe frame moves with deliberate grace, every gesture measured yet fluid, like smoke curling over broken glass. Her smile curves slow and knowing. Predatory energy hums through the Veil around her.
“You move like a predator,” she murmurs, silk over steel, “but hesitate. Why? Fear… or calculation?” Her words stir something deep in me, tugging at instincts I barely recognize.
A low growl vibrates beneath the surface of my skin before I can answer. Rava Korrin emerges opposite Selene, golden eyes blazing beneath storm-darkened brows. Muscles ripple beneath her fitted leather jacket, every step tense, alive. The wolf inside me flares, teeth and claws aching. She circles, evaluating, challenging, testing the hybrid in me. Raw power radiates from her in waves, instinct and desire merged in a low, primal thrum.
Two women. Two forces. One hybrid at their center.
Rain intensifies, drumming a relentless rhythm on rooftops and puddles. The Veil pulses beneath my skin, stretching, resonating with desire, danger, anticipation. Each of them is a thread tugging me in two directions. Selene teases, violet eyes dancing with promise and challenge. Rava presses, muscles coiled, growl low and primal.
I flex my fingers. Instincts flare: wet asphalt, ozone, iron, and something darker—blood, rain, anticipation. Shadows ripple, fractured by the Veil. I feel each as a living force—the predator, the strategist, the feral, the calm. Each testing, pulling, probing.
Selene steps closer, fingertips trailing along wet brick. A ripple arcs outward, brushing my senses like a whisper. “Varrith doesn’t forgive hesitation,” she murmurs, voice curling into tension like smoke into fire.
Rava moves forward, teeth glinting, body taut. Wolf instincts roar within me, desire and challenge tangled with bloodlust.
Then the Veil warps—rain hangs suspended in the air, shimmering between us before splashing down. Hybrid senses flare: hunger, anticipation, danger, desire. Every step I take is amplified. Every flick of a muscle, every inhalation, echoes across the fractured reality.