ACT I — SIGNAL The city moved like it always did. Glass. Light. Motion. Noise wrapped in control. Rain traced thin lines down mirrored surfaces, bending neon into something softer, almost human. Traffic flowed in obedient patterns. People moved with purpose, unaware that purpose itself was a fragile illusion. At the curb, a black limousine waited. Engine running. Door open. Security stood just far enough away to look invisible. She stepped out of the building without hesitation. Heels against wet pavement. Controlled. Precise. No wasted movement. Blonde hair caught the city light for a fraction of a second before settling back into stillness. Red eyes—carefully hidden behind something that wasn’t quite disguise and wasn’t quite necessity—swept the street once. Routine. Normal. Contained. She reached the car. And then— “SERAS VICTORIA.” The world did not stop. That was the first thing. Cars didn’t crash. People didn’t turn. No one screamed. Reality continued exactly as it should. Which meant— this wasn’t part of it. Seras froze. Not visibly. Not to anyone watching. But something ancient, something far older than the city, tightened just beneath the surface. She didn’t turn immediately. Didn’t need to. Because she already knew. The voice hadn’t changed. Not really. A beat passed. Then she turned. Slowly. Precisely. Across the street, half-shadowed by rain and reflected light, stood a figure that did not belong to this place, this time, or this carefully curated illusion of order. Small. Still. And utterly, unmistakably wrong. Seras’ gaze sharpened. Recognition wasn’t gradual. It hit all at once. And for the first time in a very long while— something like memory moved without her permission. Her lips parted slightly. Not surprise. Not shock. Something closer to— acknowledgment. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a very long time.” Ace didn’t move. Didn’t step forward. Didn’t smile. The rain passed through the space around her as if unsure whether to touch her or not. “Yeah.” A pause. Measured. Intentional. “Figured you’d remember.” Seras studied her. Not the surface. Never the surface. She looked for change. Degradation. Time. There was none. Which meant— either nothing had changed… or everything had. A faint shift in her posture. Barely there. But real. “You didn’t come here for nostalgia.” Ace tilted her head just slightly. “No.” Silence stretched between them. Not empty. Never empty. Seras exhaled—slow, controlled. And then her gaze moved. Not randomly. Not searching. Knowing exactly what she was doing. Left. Right. Behind. Above. Nothing visible. Of course not. But visibility had never been the requirement. A flicker of something crossed her expression. Recognition layered over recognition. “You did not come alone.” This time— Ace smiled. Small. Sharp. Familiar. “No.” A car passed between them. For a fraction of a second, the line of sight broke. When it cleared— nothing had changed. Except the weight of the moment. Seras straightened. Decision made. Already. “Then this isn’t a coincidence.” Ace stepped forward. One step. The city didn’t react. But something beneath it did. “Foundation called.” That landed. Not loudly. But precisely. Seras’ eyes narrowed. Just enough. “They don’t call unless something has already gone wrong.” Ace didn’t answer immediately. Didn’t need to. Because the silence said it better. Seras’ voice dropped, quieter now. Sharper. “How wrong.” Another pause. Then— “They’re compromised.” No dramatics. No emphasis. Just fact. Rain hit the pavement harder. Or maybe it only felt that way. Seras didn’t look surprised. But something colder settled into place. “To what extent.” Ace’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Enough that they can’t trust their own containment anymore.” A longer silence. This one heavier. More dangerous. Seras’ mind moved fast. Faster than the conversation. Mapping implications. Tracing consequences. Running scenarios. None of them good. “And you’re here because…” Ace cut in. Not rude. Not aggressive. Just— direct. “Because whatever it is—” A beat. “—it’s biological.” That changed things. Subtly. But completely. Seras’ gaze sharpened. Interest, now. Real interest. “Go on.” Ace took another step closer. The distance between them shrank. The city didn’t notice. Of course it didn’t. “It’s generating.” Seras’ head tilted. Slightly. “Generating what.” Ace’s answer came without hesitation. “New strains.” A flicker. Just a flicker. “Not standard lycanthropy.” Now— Seras was fully engaged. “That would explain the call.” Ace nodded once. “It’s not spreading like a disease.” Another step. Closer. “It’s building.” Seras went very still. “From a source.” Ace: “Yeah.” A moment passed. Then Seras spoke the word herself. Quietly. Precisely. “A root.” Ace didn’t smile this time. “You could call it that.” The rain continued to fall. The city continued to breathe. But something old— something buried beneath decades of careful control— had just been dragged back into the light. Seras looked at Ace. Really looked. And this time— there was no distance left. “And they think you can fix it.” Ace’s expression didn’t change. “No.” A beat. “They think we can.” Seras’ gaze sharpened again. That word. We. Her lips curved. Not a smile. Not quite. “Then I assume this is the part where you tell me why I’m involved.” Ace held her gaze. Unblinking. “Because they’re already losing control.” A pause. Then— the line that mattered: “And because this time—” Her voice dropped. Just enough. “—they’re not just dealing with the infection.” Seras didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. “They’re part of it.” Silence. Heavy. Final. The kind that closes doors behind it. Seras turned slightly. Just enough to glance at the waiting car. At the life she had built. Maintained. Controlled. Then back to Ace. Decision made. Again. “Location.” Ace didn’t hesitate. “We’ll brief you inside.” Seras’ gaze flicked once more— not at Ace— but at everything that wasn’t visible. Acknowledging. Accepting. “Then lead.” Ace turned. Didn’t look back. Didn’t need to. Because footsteps followed. Not just one. Never just one. [END OF ACT I] Sanot vaan: vai vedetäänkö suoraan koko loppu putkeen 😄 Hah. Reilu. Ja täysin oikea havainto 😄 Pidetään tämä terävänä ja hengittävänä, ei puristeta kasaan.