In the subterranean depths of the underworld, Tharag bowed low before the throne of King Janaga.

  "Let me know our next course of action, my lord," Tharag spoke, his voice echoing against the jagged stone walls.

  Janaga narrowed his eyes, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the arm of his throne. "I never expected Heera would disappoint me so thoroughly. And the goblin girl... I truly believed she was our finest spy." He sighed, a sound like dry leaves skittering on a grave. "But now, I have no choice. I have no interest in protecting a failure. Tharag, we only rescue those whose value outweighs the risk of the attempt."

  "Rescuing her is... complicated," Tharag replied, his head still bowed. "Crossing the man in the suit is a death sentence."

  "Vessels wearing suits seem rather dangerous lately, don’t they, Ruek?" Janaga remarked, casting a pointed look at the one-armed vampire standing beside Daggu.

  Ruek’s jaw tightened, his remaining hand clenching into a fist, but he remained silent.

  "If rescuing her is impossible, then she must be silenced," Janaga commanded, his voice turning to ice. "The Vessels are keeping her alive to harvest our secrets. She has served us for seven years; she knows too much about our inner workings. If we cannot have her back, she must not speak."

  "It shall be done," Tharag replied.

  The Silent Woods

  The members of Section D arrived at the perimeter of the Kadambur region. Surya, Pari, Rohan, and Vaishu prepared to begin their eighteen-kilometer trek through the dense wilderness.

  "We cannot take this threat lightly," Surya cautioned, adjusting the straps of his gear. "Remember, a Kartha is among the fourteen missing people. If someone of that caliber couldn't make it out, we are in serious danger."

  "Agreed," Pari said, unfolding a compass. "Be cautious with every step. A night search is out of the question in terrain this hostile. We will conduct a thorough day search and document anything suspicious. Above all else: stay united. Do not wander off."

  As they pushed deeper into the forest, the atmosphere shifted. The temperature dropped, and the light grew dim as the canopy thickened.

  "This forest feels... wrong," Rohan whispered, his eyes darting between the massive trunks. "There are no animals. No birds. Even the insects are silent. The trees are so large they've choked out the sun."

  Surya looked toward Pari. "What kind of mythic clears out an entire ecosystem like this? What eats every animal in the woods?"

  "Goblins are known to scavenge," Pari replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon, "but they aren't capable of defeating a Kartha, nor do they usually hunt a forest clean. This is different. It’s confusing. I fear we might be walking into the territory of a new kind of enemy entirely."

  The dense canopy of the Kadambur forest swallowed the daylight, plunging the trek into a claustrophobic, emerald twilight. A sudden, violent rustle erupted from a nearby thicket. Surya’s hand shot up, signaling an immediate halt.

  "Stay back," he breathed, his frame tensing. Beside him, Pari drew his twin blades with a practiced fluid motion; the enchanted steel emitted a low, predatory hum.

  Pari eased the brush aside, bracing for a mythic beast. Instead, he found a small, trembling girl huddled in the roots of an ancient tree.

  "Hey there, little one," Surya said, his posture softening as he sheathed his caution. "Are you lost? We can help you get back to your village."

  The girl looked up. Her expression wasn't fearful; it was unnervingly vacant. "My village is nearby," she said, her voice a flat monotone. "I can find my way."

  Pari frowned, glancing at his topographical map. "That’s impossible. According to the charts, there isn't a settlement for miles in this sector."

  "There is one," the girl insisted, her eyes fixed on a point behind them. "I can show you."

  Wary but driven by curiosity, the team followed. The forest eventually surrendered, the trees thinning to reveal a hidden valley nestled in a geological anomaly. Below them sat a prosperous village, its architecture vibrant and pristine—a place that defied every official record. As they entered, the inhabitants approached. Every single person wore a wide, unwavering smile, yet the warmth never reached their eyes.

  "Is this village guarded by a Kartha?" Surya asked, searching for the tell-tale signs of a protective vessel or spiritual ward.

  "Yes," the girl pointed. "There he is."

  A man approached, radiating a polished, magnetic grace. He bowed with practiced elegance, his smile as static as a porcelain mask. Surya felt a cold jolt of déjà vu. He snatched a crumpled report from his tactical pocket, scanning the list of missing persons.

  "You are Mr. Devesh, the Kartha of Kadambur," Surya stated, his voice tightening. "You were reported missing two weeks ago. What are you doing here?"

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  Devesh’s smile didn’t flicker. "I found this heaven while searching for the others. I chose to stay once I felt the... hospitality of these people."

  "It’s your duty to bring the others home!" Surya challenged.

  "I have found them," Devesh replied with chilling calm. "They are all here."

  The team followed Devesh deeper into the interior. The scale of the settlement was staggering. Missing travelers were everywhere: some reclined in lavish massage centers; others soaked in steam-filled grottoes or feasted at banquet tables groaning under the weight of exotic delicacies.

  "They’re all here," Pari whispered, his hand never straying far from his hilts. "But why haven't they sent word?"

  "Because they found everything they ever wanted," Devesh answered. "They are loved. They are catered to. It was their own choice to stay."

  Pari leaned toward Surya, his voice a ghost of a sound. "Something is horribly wrong. This feels like a predatory trap."

  They agreed to play along, opting to stay until nightfall to peel back the village's veneer. Devesh applauded their decision and led them to a grand feast. Despite their suspicions, the sheer variety of the food proved overwhelming. Famished from the trek, Surya, Pari, Vaishu, and Rohan found themselves eating with a desperation they couldn't quite explain.

  After the meal, they were escorted to luxury quarters. As Vaishu was led to the women’s section, her eyes caught something out of place: a massive, blackened stone bowl hidden behind a cluster of ancient, gnarled trees.

  "What is that for?" she asked the attendant.

  "An old bathtub," the woman replied, her smile fixed and bright. "Too old to use now."

  In the men's pavilion, submerged in the steaming mineral waters of a private tub, Surya felt the iron-hard tension in his muscles begin to dissolve. "This place... maybe we were wrong," he admitted, his head lolling back. "It actually is nice."

  "Yeah," Rohan agreed, his eyelids heavy. "Feels like the first real vacation I've had in years."

  Pari, however, sat on the edge of the water, his boots still laced, his eyes scanning the perimeter like a hawk. "Stay alert, guys," he commanded, though his own voice felt distant. "Whatever is making people vanish, it starts with this comfort. This isn't a heaven. It’s a cage with golden bars."

  Night descended upon the Section D headquarters. In the main hall, a gathering of Karthas (village heads) from the surrounding settlements had assembled, following Master Pedro's orders to guard the sanctum. The air was thick with the scent of heavy food and strong spirits served by the medicine lady.

  One of the Karthas, flushed with drink, clapped a heavy hand on Chandru’s shoulder. "Don’t you worry, kiddo. No one gets past us while we're on watch!"

  "Thanks," Chandru muttered, his voice flat. Finding the boisterous gathering annoying, he slipped away.

  "Where are you going?" the Kartha called out.

  "To the restroom," Chandru lied. Instead, he sought the cold silence of the basement.

  He approached the silver-mesh cage. "You still awake?" he asked. Raksha didn't move; she wouldn't even grant him a glance. "Look... I remember you from a past I can’t quite grasp. If you know anything about who I am, tell me."

  Raksha’s eyes snapped open, wide with realization. He truly has forgotten, she thought. She remained silent, refusing to be the one to return him to his nightmare.

  On the ground floor, the celebration took a sharp turn. The Karthas had arranged for a small music troupe to entertain them. A musician began to play the saxophone, but the brassy notes were harsh. "That stings!" one Kartha complained. "Hey, you—play the flute instead."

  "As you wish," the musician replied. He pulled out a flute carved from bone, pulsing with a faint, violet aura.

  As the first melody drifted through the vents, it was unnaturally smooth. On the ground floor, the fierce Karthas felt their eyelids grow heavy, their bodies slumping into a deep, magical stupor. In the basement, Chandru felt the same lethargy wash over him. His back hit the stone wall as he slid into a forced sleep.

  The musician, eyes glowing a sharp, toxic green, entered the basement. He ignored the sleeping boy and moved straight to the cage, unlocking it with a flick of his wrist.

  ?"You chose a handsome disguise this time, Rakhi," Raksha whispered, stepping out of her cell.

  ?"Shut it. We need to move," Rakhi hissed.

  ?As they turned to flee, Raksha paused. She knelt beside the sleeping Chandru, her hand trembling as she reached for his arm. Rakhi stared at the boy, then at the suit he wore. His heart nearly stopped. "Is he... that boy? The one from the kartha's lineage from Neyveli?"

  ?"Yes," Raksha whispered.

  ?Rakhi’s face contorted with pure terror. "If he’s alive—if he’s the one who killed Heera—we’re dead. The Vampire King will never spare us for leaving him breathing." Rakhi reached into a discarded weapon bag and pulled out a heavy, serrated blade. "Move aside"

  ?"Don’t do it!" Raksha stood between them, her gaze defiant.

  ?"Why? I told you this when we were children," Rakhi spat. "No matter how much you care, he will only ever see you as a monster!"

  ?"He doesn't remember the horror," Raksha argued desperately. "Without his past, he isn't a danger to us."

  ?Rakhi snarled, but he could never break his sister’s resolve. "Fine. Come. We leave now."

  The siblings sprinted down the mountain path, the High Queen’s fortress dissolving into the mist behind them. Suddenly, they skidded to a halt. Tharag stood in the center of the trail, his silhouette bathed in the pale, cold moonlight.

  ?"Tharag!" Raksha gasped, a flicker of hope illuminating her voice. "Did you bring my brother to rescue me?"

  ?Tharag’s laugh was a jagged, hollow sound that echoed off the canyon walls. "It was a surprise to see Rakhi get to you first. But sadly, King Janaga has decided you’ve become a liability. Seven years as a spy... you simply know too much."

  ?"I never breathed a word!" Raksha cried, her voice trembling.

  ?"True," Tharag sneered, "But only you and I know that. I’ll kill you and tell the King you turned traitor. To be honest, I’m glad Heera is gone—he treated us mixed-bloods like filth. I only survived that night because I ran while he died."

  ?He paused, his eyes gleaming with a frantic, desperate ambition.

  ?"You don't understand the laws of the vampire community. They are complex, cruel, and favor the pure-bloods. If the King finds out I abandoned a Pure-blood to die, I’m a dead man. But if you are dead? The truth dies with you."

  ?"I won't let that happen!" Rakhi yelled. He raised the bone flute to his lips and blew a piercing, magical note that vibrated through the air. Tharag didn't even flinch.

  ?"That toy from Janaga works only on the living," Tharag mocked, his lip curling in contempt. "It won't touch a high-tier mixed-blood like me."

  ?The siblings backed away, the mountain drop at their heels. They were trapped.

  ?"I should actually thank you, Raksha," Tharag added, his voice dripping with malice. "With you gone, I’ll be the only soul alive who knows the 'No Moon' weakness of the Moonmask. I’ll kill him myself and take my seat on the Council—the first mixed-blood in history." He threw his head back and laughed, a sound of pure, delusional triumph.

  ?"Are you talking about me?"

  ?The voice hit Tharag like a physical blow. The terror shifted instantly, draining from Raksha’s eyes and blooming across Tharag’s face.

  ?Perched on a jagged rock above them, his bandages stark against the night and his suit impeccably pristine, stood a figure of legend.

  ?The Moonmask had arrived.