Vanessa's eyes fluttered open to the dull hum of fluorescent lights. The ceiling of her cubicle greeted her like a long-lost acquaintance she never wanted to see again. She groaned and sat up.
"Back here again…" she muttered, brushing her tangled hair out of her face. A sticky note was stuck to her cheek. She peeled it off and squinted.
"Vanessa, your deadline was YESTERDAY. –Karen"
Right. The human world. Her day job.
Vanessa blinked as reality caught up with her—she must've dozed off again. Last she remembered, she was reading corrupted death reports at the FCO department and suspiciously tailing Grim, only to accidentally doze off on top of her desk in the Fate Coordination Office… while simultaneously being asleep at her desk in the human world. Soul-hopping burnout was real.
She looked around. The office was quiet.... Eerily so.
"Did everyone leave for lunch without me?" she whispered, then checked the clock.
12:01 PM.
Typical.
She rolled her shoulders and stood up, preparing to stretch her legs, but paused when she heard a soft laughter, not the normal kind. Not human. It slithered between the walls, echoing like wind through a graveyard.
Vanessa froze. Her breath hitched.
It wasn't just her. Karen from Finance, the known ghost magnet with three failed exorcisms under her belt, was swaying dreamily by the water cooler, cheeks flushed like a teenager at a pop concert.
"Karen?" Vanessa called out.
Karen giggled. Giggled.
"Have you seen him? He's gorgeous…" she whispered, dreamy-eyed.
Vanessa's stomach dropped.
Not again.
She turned the corner—and nearly tripped.
Standing at the far end of the hallway was a man, impossibly tall, dressed in sleek black with silver lining, as if death itself had hired a stylist. His hair flowed like liquid ink, and his golden eyes shimmered like sunlit honey.
He smiled, and the air thickened.
Vanessa's heartbeat quickened—not because of his ethereal beauty, but because her soul started vibrating in her ribs like it wanted to claw its way out.
She knew this feeling.
A powerful soul. Unjudged. Unregistered. Rogue.
"Excuse me," she said, composing herself and stepping forward, "Visitors aren't allowed in this department."
The man turned his attention to her.
"You're not charmed?" he asked, voice like velvet thunder. "Most people fall to their knees by now."
"Sorry. I'm allergic to pretty lies."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Intriguing."
Karen, now leaning against the wall like she was about to faint, sighed, "He said I look radiant like moonlight. Isn't he romantic?"
"Karen, you're wearing a mustard-stained finance vest. No offense." Vanessa narrowed her eyes and pushed Karen gently behind her. "You're not supposed to be here," she told the stranger. "Where's your soul tag?"
The man's eyes gleamed.
"I burned it."
Oh. Oh, hell.
"Okay, then. Time to file a formal incident report…" Vanessa muttered as she reached into her coat, pulling out her emergency ward sigils.
The man raised an eyebrow. "You're from the Fate Coordination Office, aren't you?"
That made her freeze.
She hadn't said that.
Vanessa stepped back warily, casually slipping a sigil against the wall. The paper shimmered, activating a temporary ward to block his influence.
"You're not just any soul. Who are you?" she demanded.
He chuckled, then whispered something she barely caught—"I remember your eyes."
"What?" Stunned by the sudden remark.
Before she could blink, he was suddenly right in front of her. She felt the pressure of his aura pushing down like gravity on steroids.
"You're meddling in things that are far above your clearance level, Miss Reaper," he said softly.
Forcing down her fear, Vanessa calmly replied "I'm already knee-deep in it. Might as well keep digging."
He tilted his head, studying her. "They won't protect you, you know. Those Elders of yours. Not even Valta."
The name made her pulse quickened.
"You know Elder Valta?" Somewhat shocked when the name rolled out from his tongue.
"I know all the ones who signed the Great Partition Treaty. The ones who locked away our names."
That made her stumble.
"Wait, what—"
Just then, a whoosh of energy shot through the hallway. A second later, Grim burst through the elevator, hood half-on, clutching a glowing scythe, eyes wild.
"There you are!" he shouted, breathless. "I knew he'd come here!"
Vanessa blinked in confusion.
"You know him?" She asked Grim.
"No time! Step back!"
Grim didn't wait for her to argue. He swung his scythe, sending a wave of binding light toward the rogue soul. The man caught it with a lazy flick of his fingers and crushed it like paper.
"You've grown sloppy, Grim," the soul murmured.
"And you've grown cocky," Grim shot back.
"Grim!" Vanessa shout with frustration over this puzzle. Ducking behind a copier, she continued "Can someone please explain who the heck this guy is before my lungs explode?!"
Hearing Vanessa's question, Grim spared her a casual glance "His name is Elian. He's a pre-reaper entity. One of the original batch. He escaped the Judgement Process before the current cycle. He shouldn't exist."
He answered while amazingly launching series of attacks to the soul named Elian.
"Oh fantastic. So we're dealing with a legend. Great." Rolling her eyes at the information she received. Feeling worried and anxious that she almost tugged her hair bald.
Grim threw another seal. Elian dodged, laughing.
"I'll see you again, little reaper," he whispered to Vanessa, and in the blink of an eye, POOF! He vanished in a swirl of black feathers and smoke.
Vanessa choked on the sudden vacuum of energy that followed. Her knees buckled.
Grim caught her before she hit the floor.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Vanessa blinked up at him. "I'm fine. But you've got a lot of explaining to do."
Grim sighed. "Yeah. I figured you'd say that."
Karen, still giggling in the corner, muttered, "He smelled like cinnamon and death…"
Vanessa speechlessly looked at the foolish ghost and facepalmed.
"Next time," she said, "Let's install a no-entry ward. And maybe a no-flirting-with-rogue-souls policy."
Grim helped her up and muttered, "We need to talk. Properly. There's more coming. And this… this was just a flirtatious prelude."
Vanessa's eyes narrowed. "You mean Elian's connected to the corrupted files? The swapped tags?"
Grim nodded. "And worse. He's not the only one that slipped past the Judgement."
Vanessa looked toward the window. Outside, the sun gleamed like nothing had happened. But inside, she knew everything was shifting.
Her human life, her undead assignment, her own soul—none of it was safe anymore.
And all because some hot ghost decided to show up in her cubicle.
"Hot ghosts are distracting," she muttered.
"What?" Grim asked.
Clearing her throat,"Nothing."
But deep down, her instincts screamed:
The game just changed.