The orphanage was quiet again. Too quiet. Shards of glass glittered on the floor, scorched wood smoked faintly, and Serpent bodies lay groaning where they had fallen. The younger children, hidden in the cellar, peeked out with wide, frightened eyes.
The three sisters stood in the wreckage, daggers still warm in their hands. Their breathing was heavy, their clothes damp with sweat and rain. But none of them had fallen.
For now.
Outside, black cars rolled up the cobblestone road. Sleek. Silent. Bearing no Serpent insignia—only the crest of the German government.
A man in a dark trench coat stepped out, flanked by agents in crisp uniforms. His face was lined with age but not unkind, his gray eyes sharp as steel. He introduced himself simply:
"Director Weber. Federal Security Bureau."
The children flinched, uncertain. Mara raised her dagger instinctively, but Liesel motioned her to lower it.
Weber's gaze swept the ruined orphanage before settling on the sisters. "We know what you did here. And we know why the Black Serpents came. Those blades are not a myth. They're real. And they'll never stop coming for you."
Klara crossed her arms, sparks flickering faintly in her hair. "We can fight them. We already did."
Weber stepped closer, his voice low but firm. "Yes. Tonight. But the Serpents are not just soldiers. They are an army, with resources you cannot imagine. And if you stay here… they will burn this orphanage to the ground. Next time, no one will be safe."
The sisters exchanged uneasy glances. Liesel's jaw tightened; she had seen enough of the Serpents' cruelty to believe him. Mara clenched her fists, torn between stubborn pride and the truth of his words. Klara looked back at the smaller children peering from the cellar door, their eyes full of fear.
"We don't leave our family," Mara said finally.
Weber's tone softened. "That's why I'm offering you something different. A new home. A safe place. Training, protection—and a chance to make sure the Serpents never hurt anyone again. You would not be prisoners. You would be heroes."
The rain pattered against the broken windows. Silence stretched between them, heavy with choice.
At last, Liesel lowered her blade. "If we stay, the Serpents will keep coming. If we go… maybe we can end this."
Klara nodded. "Together."
Mara scowled, reluctant, but finally relented. "Fine. But we're not weapons for you. We're still us."
Weber smiled faintly, as though he'd expected nothing less. "Of course. You'll have your say in what comes next. But for tonight, you come with us."
The sisters turned one last time to look at the orphanage—the place that had been their only home. The children waved weakly, some crying, others smiling through their tears.
Then, with their daggers sheathed and their powers simmering beneath their skin, the three sisters stepped into the black cars.
The government had secured them. The Serpents had lost this round.
But the game had only just begun.