Above the Pure Land of the Underworld.
Helen Stacy woke from a haze, still a little dazed as she looked around.
The ground beneath her feet was not earthly soil. It shone with a soft silver sheen, like moonlight condensed into a surface.
Green shade stretched without end.
Strange flowers and rare grasses grew everywhere.
The sky was not the ordinary blue of the mortal world, but a clarity beyond words, as if polished from the purest crystal.
From horizon to zenith, the firmament shifted in a gradient from clear to rose.
There were no sun, moon, or stars yet in this Underworld, and still, a gentle, even light filled every corner.
At the center of this Pure Land stood a sanctuary.
Steps of white jade led upward, each riser carved with intricate motifs set with tiny light-gems that refracted seven colors when the light touched them.
At the top of the steps rose a vast, magnificent temple.
Solemn. Grand.
It felt as if—
Every inch of soil and every ray of light silently proclaimed: this is the domain of a god.
Just then—
Helen saw a girl walking toward her.
Anya studied Helen—who at some point had arrived in the Pure Land—with open curiosity.
"Who are you?"
"Helen Stacy."
Helen answered by reflex, eyeing the girl before her.
For some reason, in the lines of this girl's brow, she seemed to glimpse the features of her future son-in-law.
Wait.
Son-in-law?
In an instant her confusion cleared, and memory came flooding back.
She remembered being in the hospital room, kissing George once on the forehead, then lying down on the accompanying bed to sleep.
Then she heard Mahoney and Hale, who had been guarding outside for her husband, talking in the hallway.
Footsteps quickened.
Just as she was about to step out and ask what was happening—pfft, pfft—silenced gunshots sounded, and the door was shoved open from the outside.
And then—
Nothing.
She remembered everything now—the moment a bullet struck her chest, the sight of Mahoney and two other night-shift officers sprawled in the hall outside in pools of blood.
So—
"Am I dead?"
"Uh…"
Anya thought for a moment and was just about to nod when—whoosh—a fiery phoenix silhouette bloomed around Helen.
Helen stared in shock as the phantom phoenix, as if about to wrap her in its wings, appeared in a rush. It looked unreal, but it felt warm.
"What is this?"
"My brother's power."
"Your brother…"
Freed at last from the veil between life and death, Helen took in the girl whose brow faintly resembled her future son-in-law's. She was about to ask what Anya's brother was called when—
The phoenix's wings folded fully around her.
Like a bath of fire.
Then—
Rebirth.
"Ah!"
With the monotone beep of an alarm blaring, Helen, who had been lying on the hospital room floor, snapped her eyes open and sat bolt upright, pupils wide as she gulped for air.
The next second—
Something clicked in her mind. She scrambled to her feet, rushed to the bed, saw that the heart monitor had flatlined, and slammed the emergency call button.
A piercing alarm rang across the entire floor.
Hale, who had just taken a night-shift officer to check the stairwell after hearing a noise, froze at the sound. Her eyes narrowed; she swore sharply and hurried back toward the room.
She arrived to find Mahoney and two other officers lying in their own blood outside the police captain's door.
Hale cried out despite herself and sprinted for the room.
The elevator opened.
Officers stationed downstairs rushed up, took one look, and all sucked in a breath.
Hale knelt by Detective Mahoney, checked his breathing, and let out a long, shaky sigh of relief.
At that moment—
Hawk and Gwen, both in pajamas, came out of the elevator alongside the summoned ER team.
Under the influence of the Reality Stone, no one found Hawk and Gwen's sudden presence odd; to their eyes, Hawk and Gwen had been here all along.
The door flew inward again. Gwen, still in pajamas and frantic, rushed in, saw Helen, and threw her arms around her. "Mom!"
A doctor darted to the bedside. After a quick check and a glance at the readouts, he exhaled in relief.
Helen, in turn, stared dumbly at the daughter hugging her.
"Gwen?"
"Thank God you're okay."
Gwen sagged with relief, then looked to the doctor taking off his stethoscope.
He nodded.
George was okay!
Only then did Gwen finally, fully relax.
The doctor hurried back out.
The people inside were fine; outside, three men were down.
Hawk—also in pajamas—helped the officers lift the still-breathing Mahoney and the two other wounded onto gurneys, then turned to Hale.
"What happened?"
"The camera we placed in the stairwell suddenly went offline. I took someone to check and found it destroyed. It was under three minutes—then the alarm went off."
Hale looked dazedly at Mahoney being pushed toward surgery. It had all happened too fast; her thoughts were a mess.
Hawk glanced at her, then turned and entered the room.
Helen sat in a chair, looking down at a bullet she held in her palm.
She had found it in her clothes after Gwen arrived and she'd sat down. There was a bullet hole in the fabric too.
Her mind was still a jumble.
Gwen comforted her softly.
As for George—
George was fine.
The moment Hawk realized Helen had undergone Phoenix Rebirth, he threw on underwear and pajamas, and with Gwen—who also hurried into her underwear and pajamas—rushed to the hospital.
He had assumed that after Helen's rebirth, George would follow.
But George had not. It was as if the killer had fled after shooting Helen and hadn't had time to finish George.
But is that possible?
The shooter had clearly come to silence them. Kill everyone else and leave the target alive? How would that make sense?
Unless—
He had been killed—but George hadn't stayed dead.
Could that happen?
Yes.
Re-entering the room, Hawk's gaze fell on George on the bed—his eyelashes beginning to flutter—and one dark brow arched.
The next moment—
A low groan broke the air.
Gwen, who'd been fretting over how to explain the bullet in her mother's hand if asked, heard the familiar voice. Her eyes lit up. She looked to the bed where George slowly opened his eyes, froze for a heartbeat, then said in joy:
"Dad!"
"…George?"
Helen, still wondering if what she'd just experienced was real or a dream, snapped to, looked at George's slowly opening eyes, and stood.
George's gaze found Helen first.
Their eyes met.
Helen, startled, tossed the bullet from her hand, stepped forward, and clasped George's fingers.
"George."
"Dad."
Gwen couldn't help but laugh through tears at the sight of her father grinning up at her mother.
Hawk, standing at the foot of the bed, didn't smile.
He turned into the bathroom. When he came back out, he'd made a quick run to the apartment and brought Gwen's phone.
He dialed Katherine.
Katherine Pierce.
Vampire queen.
Before Hawk and Gwen returned from Mystic Falls, Katherine had come ahead to New York City.
After Hawk returned and told her that the Original vampire Klaus had called off his hunt for her, Katherine—relieved at last—chose not to leave New York. She stayed.
Reason one: she worried Klaus might change his mind. Reason two (the main one): New York was close to Hawk.
Hawk hadn't minded.
New York wasn't his exclusively; if Katherine wanted to stay, she could.
Later, Gwen and Sharon bumped into Katherine while shopping. The three even had afternoon tea.
After a few more chance encounters, Katherine and Gwen had become friends.
So—
Gwen had Katherine's number. Hawk didn't.
The line picked up quickly.
"Katherine—"
"Katherine, it's me."
"Oh!"
Katherine's lazy tone vanished in an instant, replaced by alert tension.
Hawk didn't waste time.
"I need a daylight ring. I'm at New Amsterdam Hospital. As fast as you can."
"…No problem. On my way."
"Thanks."
He hung up, stepped out of the bathroom, and looked back at George—now fully awake, even trying to speak—with a complexion growing rosier by the minute.
The doctor, returning because George had regained consciousness, stared at the man who was already trying to get up, disbelief plain on his face.
Gwen, too, had cooled from her initial joy. Watching George recover by the second, she frowned and glanced at Hawk's grave expression as he left the bathroom and came over.
"Hawk, my dad—"
"Transition."
"…?"
Gwen, about to ask if something was wrong, froze at that single word. A thought flashed; her pupils shrank. She glanced at George—sitting up despite the doctor—and lowered her voice. "Vampire transition?"
Hawk nodded.
"Yeah."
"How is that possible!"
"Don't vampires have to drink vampire blood first, then die once to trigger the transition?"
"And—what about the Phoenix Rebirth?"
Gwen's eyes trembled. "Dad died. Shouldn't he have been reborn? Mom was. Why wasn't Dad?"
Hawk lowered his voice, speaking by her ear. "If he dies again, it'll trigger."
Gwen stared at him.
"What?"
"Rebirth triggers after death. Like Helen—she took a trip to the Underworld first, then the Phoenix Rebirth kicked in.
"But George's soul never made it to the Underworld. He revived on vampire blood. How would the rebirth trigger?"
Hawk explained the mechanics of rebirth in a whisper.
Vampire turning happens before a soul goes to Hell.
Once a soul enters Hell, if it could still come back as a vampire—that would be stealing from Mephisto's plate.
It's hard enough for Hawk to snatch anything from Mephisto; vampires certainly couldn't.
His Phoenix Rebirth, by contrast, triggers after death.
Even Hawk's first rebirth had his soul make a stop at Mephisto's little bar.
So—
George did die, but before his soul could reach the Underworld, because he had consumed vampire blood within the last twenty-four hours, he revived and entered the vampire transition.
"There's only one question."
"What?"
"When did George drink vampire blood?"
"And—"
Hawk paused, glanced at Gwen, and murmured, "How are you going to convince him to drink human blood in the next twenty-four hours?"
Gwen's eyes widened again.
Right.
The vampire transition lasts only twenty-four hours. If he doesn't drink blood during that window, George will die for real.
Wait—no.
Gwen shook her head.
"Doesn't he have the rebirth?"
"Sure. Want to bet on it?"
Hawk gave a crooked look toward the doctor—still stunned by George's miraculous vitals—and kept his voice down. "Right now he's in a superposition—both human and vampire. If he dies and rebirth triggers, what if he comes back in the same superposition?"
He only had two Phoenix Feathers total.
He'd given them out last year, after they came back from Mystic Falls—Christmas gifts to George and Helen.
And those gifted feathers weren't the same as his own rebirth.
He had "Undying" first—and then "Rebirth."
That's why he came back at full strength every time he resurrected, a little stronger each time.
"Undying" is the core of his Phoenix mantle.
He couldn't bless that onto anyone.
"Rebirth" he could.
But without "Undying" as the core, the effect was like Helen's—just revival, no bells and whistles.
So his Phoenix Feathers could only ensure: if a human dies, they revive still human; if a vampire dies, they revive still vampire.
But with George in a quantum superposition of human and vampire, Hawk couldn't guarantee which state he'd be after rebirth.
Besides—
He only had those two feathers, and he'd already gifted them. He wasn't about to use some superposed lab rat to test edge cases.
Gwen frowned.
"So what do we do now?"
"I don't know."
Hawk was honest. "I called Katherine to bring a daylight ring. Let's have it on hand—just in case. For now, we need to figure out when George drank vampire blood."
Gwen steadied herself with a breath.
Soon after—
The doctor returned from a thorough check, took off his stethoscope, and looked at George as if he were seeing the impossible.
Helen watched anxiously.
"Doctor, George—"
"Captain Stacy is recovering extraordinarily well—better than I've ever seen. Don't worry. When day shift starts, we'll schedule comprehensive tests."
He smiled reassuringly, then hurried out.
People inside were fine; outside, three men still needed urgent care.
George reached for the leads, ready to pull them off.
Gwen yelped and trotted over to stop him. "Dad, what are you doing? You just woke up."
George swung his legs like he meant to get up. "Mahoney's in surgery. I need to check on him. I'm fine—I feel better than I ever have."
"No, you're not fine."
After transition begins, the arc goes from peak to decay. If he doesn't drink human blood within twenty-four hours, his organs will gradually fail and he'll die.
Think of it like twenty-four hours of adrenaline.
You're poisoned, but the adrenaline buys you time to find the cure.
The cure is blood. Drink it, and you're truly fine. Fail, and when the twenty-four hours end and the adrenaline ebbs—you're gone.
George had just revived; he was at the peak.
Hawk, meanwhile, was curious—the superposition of human and vampire seemed to be tipping vampire-ward. "George, have you been working a case involving vampires?"
George, trying to persuade his daughter to let him up, glanced at Hawk, eyes narrowing.
They held each other's look.
Hawk's expression stayed even.
Gwen shot a glance to her mother, who was still at the doorway, then lowered her voice. "Dad, are you…thirsty for anything?"
George blinked at her conspiratorial tone. "Thirsty for what?"
"Mmm."
"Honey."
Hawk's eyes slid to the blood bag hanging by the bed, its flow steadily trickling into George's vein. "He's already drinking it."
Hawk's mouth twitched.
That explained it.
George hadn't drunk blood—and yet he was shifting vampire-ward?
Turns out… he already was.
…
(End of Chapter)
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