LUPUS.EXE

Chapter 5: Hunter’s Kiss

The ruins of the Vatican were drowned in moonlight and blood. What had once been a seat of faith was now a throne for monsters. The spires lay shattered, jagged like broken fangs. Marble angels wept red stains. Bone dust swirled across ancient stones, and the great dome—once a marvel—had collapsed into a cathedral of silence. But even silence had weight. Lupus stepped through the archway, coat sweeping behind him, eyes fixed on the altar. Behind him, Nyra followed quietly. Ilsa drifted farther back, her boots clicking on broken tile. Neither woman spoke. Not yet. Because they felt it too. Something was waiting. Lupus stopped beside a pillar. The scent hit him first—burned iron, rotting roses, old power. It slithered under his skin, familiar in the way a nightmare clings after waking. The nanomachines in his veins stirred quietly, loyal and ready. A voice slid from the shadows. “You came quicker than I expected. ” Lupus turned slowly. The creature standing at the altar wore his face. But it wasn’t him. It was taller. Paler. Leaner. Dressed in a priest’s torn robes, black silk soaked in dried blood. Its eyes glowed crimson—not like a beast, but like a machine mimicking hunger. Its lips curled. “Brother,” it said. “Don’t we look good? ” “I don’t have brothers,” Lupus replied. The hybrid laughed. It echoed through the cathedral like a chorus of bones falling. “You will,” it said. “After I break you. ” Nyra’s voice was low. “That’s Subject 09. ” “I know,” Lupus said. “He smells like disappointment. ” Ilsa smirked from the side. “At least he dresses better than you. ” 09 tilted his head. “I like her,” he said. “She’s full of blood and betrayal. ” “She’s mine,” Lupus said coldly. 09’s grin faded. “So it’s true,” he murmured. “You think you can possess everything. Even the world. ” “I don’t think,” Lupus said. “I know. ” The air split. 09 moved first, faster than a human blink. One second he stood by the altar—the next, he lunged across the room, claws out, robes whipping behind him like wings. Lupus met him midair. The impact cracked the cathedral floor. Stone burst beneath them as the two collided—claw against claw, fist against bone. 09 hissed, slashing in a blur. Lupus ducked, spun, drove his elbow into the hybrid’s ribs, then caught him by the throat and slammed him backward through a statue of Saint Peter. Marble exploded. Ilsa clapped once, delighted. Nyra didn’t move. Her hand hovered near her tablet, nanite code pulsing faintly in her palm. 09 rose from the rubble, grinning through blood. “Strong,” he growled. “Too strong. They said you were. . . incomplete. ” “They were wrong. ” Lupus blurred forward, struck 09 three times in under a second—jaw, chest, gut. The final hit sent the hybrid skidding across the sanctuary, scraping a trench in the floor. But he didn’t stay down. He laughed again, rising slow. “Good,” 09 whispered. “Now I get to enjoy breaking you. ” Then he vanished. Lupus pivoted instantly—caught the blur mid-air, twisted, and drove his knee into 09’s spine. But the hybrid twisted too, biting into Lupus’s shoulder with jagged steel fangs. Blood sprayed. Lupus didn’t flinch. He grabbed 09’s head and headbutted him so hard the vampire’s skull cracked. They fell apart. Lupus landed in a crouch. Blood dripped down his arm. The nanites surged instantly—silver threads knitting flesh, sealing veins, restoring muscle. 09 stood again, slower this time. “You heal faster than me,” he said. “Not fair. ” “You die slower than I’d like,” Lupus answered.

A blur of silver shot through the air—Ilsa, fangs bared, claws extended. She tackled 09 from the side, ripping into his chest with a scream. They rolled across the floor. 09 grabbed her by the hair, slammed her against a pillar, and threw her across the chamber. She hit the wall hard, laughing. “You’re both insane,” 09 spat. “Only on good nights,” Ilsa purred. He turned—just in time for Lupus to slam into him full-force, lifting him by the throat and pinning him against the altar. “I don’t care what you are,” Lupus growled. “You bleed. ” “You’ll never kill me,” 09 hissed. “We’re the same. ” “No,” Lupus whispered. “I’m what you failed to become. ” Then he sank his claws into 09’s chest—straight into the hybrid’s heart. 09 screamed. Not in pain. In fury. The sound shattered every window in the ruins. Nyra dropped to one knee, covering her ears. Ilsa snarled, shielding her eyes. The blood that poured from 09 wasn’t red. It was black. Thick. Coated in data. Code. Lupus’s nanites surged forward, reacting instinctively. Threads of silver reached from his hands into the hybrid’s chest—parasitic data leaping into him, syncing, sampling, translating. Then 09 grinned. “Got you. ” Lupus’s eyes widened. The connection twisted. Not a virus. Not an attack. A transmission. Memories. Images slammed into Lupus’s mind—flashes of the other hybrids. Faces. Movements. One on a train in Berlin. One in a crater in Mongolia. One. . . one not even in this world. A female. Older than Zion. Not human. Then— Snap. Lupus severed the link. 09 fell limp in his arms, blood pooling around him. He was still breathing. But barely. Lupus dropped him to the floor. “Nyra,” he said. “Get this data stabilized. ” “I saw it too,” she whispered. “It wasn’t just Zion tech. That was. . . something older. ” Ilsa limped over, brushing blood from her lips. “Looks like you have more enemies than we thought. ” Lupus looked at the wreckage. Then at the sky through the broken dome. “I don’t care how many come,” he said. “I’ll bury them all. ” Behind him, Ilsa stepped close. Her hand slid around his waist, pulling herself against his side. “You know, you were always sexiest when covered in blood. ” Nyra narrowed her eyes. “Don’t push your luck. ” “Why? ” Ilsa purred. “Worried I’ll win? ” “You won’t,” Lupus said. “Neither of you will. ” They both looked at him. He smiled faintly. “I don’t choose favorites. ” Ilsa grinned. Nyra flushed. And in the shadows beyond the altar, another woman watched. Black armor. Moonblade on her back. Silver eyes locked on Lupus like a hunter starved too long. She didn’t speak. Not yet. But soon.