Happy New Year,  everyone! 
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​It was only thirty minutes since Anthony left home. Aegir’s eyes focused on the door in front of him. With a sigh, he looked around and gripped his knuckles hard. "Get yourself together, you crazy cat!" he reminded himself, trying his best not to bolt out of the door to find Anthony.
​An unpleasant feeling fluttered in his chest. It must be because of Anthony's absence. After all, Anthony would be gone for long hours, and these past few months, they had been practically inseparable because of their missions.
​Aegir sighed again, slumping onto the huge sofa in the living room. He fished the pink phone out of his pocket and immediately searched the web—the human's trusty technological companion.
​‘How to calm yourself when you're missing someone?’
​He felt his cheeks turn red as he typed the question. Surely, the smartphone would answer him. He knew how to use it now and understood why humans used it so often. Seconds later, the search revealed numerous answers. He didn't bother to scroll down and immediately tapped the first result at the top.
​‘First step: acknowledge your feelings.’
​Aegir’s eyebrows knotted. Sometimes, he thought the internet was dumb. Unlike those lying humans, he was certain of his feelings—he missed Anthony. He had this strong feeling lately to be with him as much as he could. He didn't understand the reason why, but he thought if he didn't... he might regret it.
​‘Second step: practice self-care. Do things you love such as exercise or hobbies.’
​Aegir puckered his lips and immediately exited the web. The phone didn't help at all. Now, it added another problem: what would he do now?
​Coloring his books? Eating? Watching TV? Boxing? Reading the blasted comics? Strolling the neighborhood as a cat?
​Certainly, he had planned his day the night before, but now the thought of Anthony's missing presence made him overthink. How was Anthony at school? He was different now; surely, no one dared to bully him like in the past? Moments of the thought caused him to blush and giggle... Does Anthony miss him, too?
​He could easily reply to Anthony's swarming messages, but he didn't know what to say. He wanted Anthony to focus at school. So, he put his phone notifications on silent even though he felt tempted to call and hear his voice.
​Aegir lay flat on his stomach on the sofa. He opened his phone again and read one of Anthony's messages: 
”I'm at school now. How are you and our cats? :< "
​Aegir bit his lips, trying his best not to send a reply. If he replied, he knew Anthony would keep texting. But if he didn't reply, would his master get tired and stop? Either way, his stupid master wouldn't stop, would he?
​Pouting, he scooped one of their cats to his chest, earning a meow of protest. He brought its little face close to his and pinched its cheeks. ”What do you think I should do, Tibby? Should I reply or not? ” He asked the cat. It blinked repeatedly and yawned. “Food,” its immediate reply made Aegir laugh. He kissed the cat repeatedly.
​”Of course you'll say that. Why don't we grab some treats and milk from the kitchen, then I'll reply to our stupid master, hmm? ” The cat meowed, seemingly pleased. Tabby, the other cat, jumped on the sofa upon hearing the news, making Aegir smile.
​The kitchen filled with the savory scent of poached poultry as Aegir worked. His tail moved rhythmically—a steady, content thump, swishing against the cabinets. He hummed a melody he’d picked up from Anthony’s playlist. He meticulously shredded chicken breast while a glass of milk sat untouched on the countertop, the cream-colored surface reflecting the soft morning light.
​He divided the chicken evenly into two identical ceramic bowls and topped them with a splash of warm beef broth. "Patience, you two," he murmured. His own ears flicked toward the floor where the excitement reached a fever pitch. He was also hungry just from the smell. He would prepare his own share once he finished feeding them.
​The cats were a blur of motion at his feet, their paws pattering against the tile. But Tabby, driven by hunger, launched itself upward. Aegir reached out, a warning halfway formed on his lips, but the cat’s trajectory was too sharp. Its back paws clipped the edge of the milk glass.
​The world seemed to slow as the glass tipped, teetered, and finally succumbed to gravity. It hit the floor with a sharp crack, sending white liquid and jagged shards dancing across the kitchen tile.
​Aegir froze. The sound vibrated through him, leaving a cold trail of shock. He stared at the mess—the milk pooling like a pale shroud around the broken pieces.
​"Geez, you..." He placed his hands on his hips and turned to the Tabby now crouching on the counter. "You should be careful, okay? What if you got hurt instead?"
​He meant to be firm, but the cat looked back with wide, shimmering eyes, its ears tilted in a display of pure pity. Aegir felt his resolve crumble. He sighed and rubbed his temples, but as he looked back down at the shards, the irritation didn't dissipate. Instead, it curdled into a strange, heavy unease. The sight of the broken glass felt less like an accident and more like a fractured omen.
​Surely, it doesn't mean something, right?
​Aegir felt dread coil in his stomach. He immediately thought of Anthony. Was he okay and safe? Did something happen? Maybe he was just overthinking.
​He reached for the broom, but the sharp, mechanical ring of the doorbell cut the motion short. The sound shouldn't have been terrifying, but Aegir’s heart skipped a beat. A cold shiver raced down his spine, making his fur stand on end. His honed survivor's gut screamed at him to stay away from the door.
​He wasn't dumb; he realized things quickly. It wasn't Anthony at the door. Danger lurked around and it's coming for him.
​He closed his eyes for a second and extended his senses. There it was. Beyond the wood and stone of the house, a faint, oily signature of mana flickered. Someone tried to suppress it, but the mask was imperfect. It felt jagged and hauntingly familiar.
​Targeted. The vibe was identical to the dark nights he spent as a stray, when the shadows weren't just shadows, but things with teeth.
​Aegir didn't hesitate. He had no time to spare for groveling or crying like before. He swept both cats into his arms and tucked them against his chest, ignoring their startled mews. There was no time to clean the milk or check the peephole. He turned toward the large kitchen window, unlatched it with a swift click, and vaulted into the air.
​As he hit the ground running, his mind raced. He needed to get clear. He needed to find cover. Most importantly, he needed to contact Artemisia before the shadow at the door realized the house was empty.
​The impact was deafening. A dark red bolt—jagged like lightning made of clotted blood—shredded the air where Aegir’s head had been a millisecond before as if it had waited for him, it was precise like the one who did it knew his next move. It slammed into the kitchen’s exterior wall, disintegrating the reinforced concrete into a spray of gravel and fine grey dust.
​Aegir landed in a crouch, the shockwave rattling his teeth. He felt a sharp sting on the side of his head. A few silver strands of his hair, severed by the sheer heat of the blast, drifted slowly to the grass. Aegir swore he could see his life flash before his eyes. That was so close it was terrifying.
​Slow clap.
​The sound was rhythmic, mocking, and cold. "Good job on making your death a little late," a voice rasped, dripping with familiarity. "You thought you could escape?"
​Aegir’s throat tightened. He turned his head slowly toward the direction of the voice and saw Dr. Gregory or Hale—their enemy. But the man who stood there was a nightmare version of the person Aegir remembered. His arms were a ruin of charred flesh, bound haphazardly in bandages soaked through with fresh, dark blood. His eyes, once clinical and cold, were now two pits of burning, iridescent red fixed on Aegir with murderous intent. The mana rolling off him was thick and putrid, smelling of iron and rot.
​"Hale..." Aegir whispered, the name feeling like ash on his tongue. ”So, you've become desperate, huh? You want to kill me to hurt him, don't you? “ Aegir didn't hesitate. He knew the answer; he could see right through him.
​Hale's eyes filled with mirth. This cat wasn't dumb after all—a worthy weakness for The Raven.
​The cats hissed in unison, their claws digging into Aegir’s shirt as they sensed the monstrous presence. Aegir squeezed them tighter. He was pinned between a crumbling house and a madman with enough power to obliterate the whole town.
​Aegir felt sweat slicking his palms. His survival instincts screamed that he was outmatched. He and Anthony both knew how strong Hale was; he nearly killed their friend, Saint. But as he looked at Hale’s bloodied bandages, he saw the cost of that power—the man was burning himself out to kill him. He didn't know what happened, but something tormented Hale.
​A power... something Aegir knew. He knew Anthony managed to hit Hale before. It was merely a scratch, but that scratch managed to make its way toward Hale's flesh, almost like death was chasing him... gnawing his insides.
​He was here for revenge. The only way to inflict pain on Anthony was through Aegir.
​"I can't just run," Aegir realized, his tail lashing behind him in a sharp, agitated arc. "If I turn my back, he’ll blast us all into nothing." He needed to stall for time—enough to weaken him and escape.
​He shifted his weight, lowering his center of gravity. He needed to find a way to set the cats down safely or find an opening to strike. The air grew heavy, and the grass beneath Hale’s feet withered and blackened from the sheer weight of his malevolent mana.
​He wouldn't die here. He would defy even fate if he has to. 
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