The night after the raid was too quiet.
The club had relocated to a temporary room in the east wing — smaller, darker, forgotten by the school… and forgotten on purpose. The Hive had learned their old name, their old location. That alone was enough reason to erase it all.
They voted quickly.
The Supernatural Studies Club was dead.
Their new name burned into the chalkboard in uneven white strokes:
"Umbra Circle."
The Circle that devours the dark, together.
Ren sat alone in the far corner, hood up, hands buried in the sleeves of his jacket. His whole body felt wrong — stretched, too sensitive, too hungry.
He hadn't eaten since the fight. Not food.
His stomach rejected everything.
His hands shook when he tried to hold chopsticks at lunch.
Everything had a taste — but not the right one.
His mouth ached.
His teeth felt sharp in ways they shouldn't.
Selene leaned against the crooked bookshelf, arms crossed, watching him without speaking. Toren adjusted weapons at the table. Lyra chewed gum so loudly it filled the room. Kael scribbled something on a tablet with inhuman focus.
Every time Ren moved, their eyes flicked toward his shadow.
Because it was moving on its own.
Slow, restless, coiling like a living animal pacing inside him.
Kael finally broke the silence.
"You need to feed."
Ren's jaw clenched. "I said I'm fine."
"No," Kael replied flatly. "You are starving.
Your Yuno Organ is overactive. If you don't feed, you'll slip."
Lyra leaned forward on the couch, eyes gentle.
"Ren… accidents happen when we deny it. We've all been there. Please don't wait until you—"
Ren slammed his hands onto the desk — too hard. Wood splintered. Everyone froze, but not one of them reacted with fear.
Selene stepped forward, voice low.
"Ren. Look at me."
He tried. He did. But something under his skin was crawling, pushing, gnawing.
His heartbeat sounded like footsteps approaching from inside his ribcage.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
His vision blurred — edges sharpening into too much clarity. The lights dimmed, but the shadows brightened.
He wasn't thinking anymore.
He was feeling.
His shadow stretched behind him, rising like a horned beast.
Toren moved first — too fast for a human — but Selene raised one hand without looking.
"Don't."
Toren froze.
Lyra swallowed.
Kael closed his tablet.
Selene walked toward Ren — slow, deliberate, steady.
"Let it come," she whispered. "Don't fight the hunger. You can't cage it. Not yet."
Ren's breath hitched. His voice was raw.
"I don't want to be a monster."
Her steps didn't stop.
"That's why you won't become one."
He laughed — broken, exhausted.
"You don't know what it feels like."
Her eyes softened with something ancient and familiar.
"Yes," she murmured. "I do."
She reached him — and the hunger surged.
His back arched.
His eyes flared —
GOLD.
Not warm gold.
Predatory. Hunting.
Light reflected in darkness.
His teeth sharpened — fangs pressing painfully against his lips.
A white bone mask began forming across his cheekbones — jagged, cracked, like something trying to escape his skull. It pulsed in time with the hunger.
Selene raised her hand to his face.
Toren inhaled sharply.
Lyra stood up.
Kael's jaw tightened.
But Selene didn't hesitate.
Her palm touched his cheek — right across the forming mask.
The bone shuddered — cracking, shifting — like it wasn't sure whether to bite her or disappear.
Ren's breath shook. His voice was barely human.
"Move. I could— I could hurt you."
Selene leaned closer.
"If you attack me," she said softly,
"then I'll bleed with you."
The hunger snarled through his bones.
Shadows burst outward, wrapping around Selene's wrists — then froze, trembling, unsure.
Selene didn't flinch.
Her forehead touched his.
Her voice dropped into the quiet between heartbeats:
"Ren… breathe."
He tried.
His lungs refused.
His vision flickered — school rooftop — blood — claws — screaming — hunger — hunger — hunger—
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Barely there.
Feathers.
A crow croaked somewhere behind the building.
Ren's head snapped toward the window — body moving before thought — shadows launching him upward and outward—
Behind the School
Moonlight spilled over the abandoned courtyard.
A single raven — injured — twitched weakly in the grass.
Ren didn't think.
He fell on it.
The world became scent, heat, texture — the pulse of life fading under his teeth. His jaw tore. His throat swallowed. Instinct, primal and overwhelming, drowned him.
It wasn't elegant.
It wasn't controlled.
It was desperate.
His mask spread fully over his face — curved like a demon's grin — horns of shadow rising from his temples. His hands were claws. His eyes burned gold bright enough to reflect in puddles.
He devoured until there was nothing left to recognize.
Not because he wanted to.
But because his body decided without him.
When he finally stopped — he was kneeling.
Breathing in short, broken bursts.
Blood — dark, feathery, wrong — clung to his lips and chin.
He stared at his hands.
They weren't hands anymore.
Not entirely.
Shadows curled off them in smoke-like ribbons.
Claws instead of nails.
Joints too flexible.
His voice cracked.
"...What am I?"
Footsteps approached — slow, careful — not afraid.
Selene.
She didn't say anything at first. She just knelt in front of him, letting the silence breathe.
Ren trembled.
"You should be afraid of me."
"I am," she admitted.
He looked up — startled.
Her gaze didn't waver.
"But fear isn't enough to make me leave."
The shadows flickered.
The mask cracked.
Ren's body sagged — exhausted — collapsing forward.
Selene caught him with both arms, pulling him in against her shoulder. His claws pressed into her back — enough to tear skin if he slipped.
But she didn't tighten.
Didn't brace.
Didn't pull away.
She just held him.
"Ren…" she breathed, almost a whisper, almost a confession.
"You're not the only one who's ever eaten something they wish they hadn't."
His breathing slowed.
The shadows withdrew.
The mask dissolved into bone dust and smoke.
Selene guided his head to her shoulder, resting her chin lightly on his hair.
"Your hunger… it's not evil," she murmured. "It's a part of you. And we don't abandon our own."
Ren closed his eyes — tears he didn't remember forming slipping silently down his cheek.
"...Then who helps someone like me stay human?"
Selene's hold tightened.
"I do."
She hesitated.
"And soon… someone else will too. Someone who understands this hunger better than anyone."
Ren didn't see the shadow in the second-floor window.
Two golden eyes watched them.
Waiting.
Hungry.
Saya was already here.
But her chapter hasn't begun yet.