Liam rose slowly, wiping the blood from his blade against the dead hybrid's shirt. His movements were measured, but his mind was racing. A quiet unease crept in, subtle but persistent, like fog rolling in over still water. None of this fit together. Not cleanly. Not logically.
If these hybrids were already hiding in the city… then why now? Why tonight?
His eyes flicked to Nyxie, still perched on his shoulder, silent and still, her gaze sharper than ever—too knowing for comfort.
"They're being triggered," he said aloud, voice quiet but sure, like the idea had spoken itself into being.
Nyxie gave a subtle tilt of her head, as if confirming what they both already suspected.
That would explain it. Why they were suddenly emerging without disguises. Why they were unstable. Why they were dying so easily. Someone—or something—was turning them on like switches.
"But why now?" Liam muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
