CHAPTER 393: NOBODY’S NORMAL

The world solidified around them with a sharp clarity, and the first thing Rachel registered was the smell.

Disinfectant.

It was faint at first, but the longer she stood there, the stronger it became. It crawled into her nose, sterile and cold, and it brought with it a wave of memories she wanted nothing to do with.

They were in the basement.

Rachel blinked slowly, forcing herself to focus as she took in her surroundings. Beside her, Aria looked around curiously while Ethan and Vivian had already shifted into a stance that screamed tension. Even before anyone spoke, Rachel could feel it.

Something was wrong.

No, not wrong.

Wicked.

The air itself felt heavy, laced with hostility so thick that it was almost tangible. Beneath the harsh white lighting, the walls seemed to breathe in quiet menace. Every sound felt sharpened. Every flicker of shadow carried intent.

And through it all, deep above them, Rachel could feel him.

Her grandfather.

Even with multiple floors between them, she could feel his presence like the weight of a boulder on her chest. He was up there, in his director’s office at the very top of the hospital. Watching. Waiting.

And he knew she was here.

A surge of rage cut through her before she could stop it. It came on like a storm, wild and untamed, an instinct buried deep in her blood suddenly clawing to the surface. Her body trembled with the effort to contain it, but her eyes betrayed her.

Ethan stiffened the second he saw her expression.

Vivian’s head turned slowly, her pupils narrowing as she sensed it too.

The killing intent.

It rolled off Rachel like waves crashing against the shore, cold and suffocating, carrying a promise that someone was going to die if they pushed her too far.

Neither Ethan nor Vivian needed to speak. Weapons came out instantly, drawn by reflex rather than thought, steel and magic ready in their hands.

"Where the hell are we?" Ethan growled, scanning the empty corridor ahead of them.

Rachel’s voice was flat, almost bored. "The city’s hospital."

Vivian frowned at that, clearly unconvinced, while Ethan let out a harsh laugh with no humor behind it.

"That’s bullshit," he said. "No hospital feels like this. This is a den of murderers and assassins at best."

Aria gave a small, awkward smile, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Well... he isn’t wrong," she admitted softly.

Rachel turned her head slightly, eyes half-lidded. "He is not wrong at all," she said. "This is one of the bases of the Umbral Moon Organization. I am part of it."

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut.

Ethan and Vivian both turned toward Aria slowly, as if expecting her to deny it, as if hoping they had somehow misheard.

But Aria nodded with a faint shrug.

"She’s the Granddaughter of the Head of it. Technically, she’s the Princess of the Organization." Aria chimed in softly.

Ethan groaned, dragging a hand down his face before growling, "Why can things never be simple?"

"Because it wouldn’t be as fun," Vivian said with a grin, holstering her blade for the moment.

Ethan stared at her like she had just grown a second head.

Rachel ignored them all. Her eyes were locked upward, through the concrete and metal between her and the office above, where she could feel the steady presence of the man who had built this empire in shadows. Her rage stirred again, hotter this time, and her hands curled into fists.

"I need to go see him," she said finally. Her voice carried none of the emotion boiling inside her. It was calm. Too calm. "We need to reach the top floor."

Ethan looked at her sharply. "You planning to kill everyone between here and there?"

Rachel didn’t answer at first. Her eyes remained fixed above as silence stretched on.

When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, but the edge in it was unmistakable.

"Try not to kill anyone if you can help it."

Ethan turned his head slowly toward her with a look that was equal parts disbelief and frustration.

"You’re asking for the impossible," he said.

Rachel didn’t argue.

Vivian only smiled wider, looking far too entertained by the entire situation. "Then what are we waiting for?" she asked, already stepping toward the hallway ahead. "Let’s get going."

The group fell into motion, boots thudding softly against the polished floor as they moved through the basement. The air here was colder than it should have been, as if the entire building had been built with death in mind.

Rachel kept walking, her expression calm, but inside her chest her heart was pounding with something that wasn’t fear. It was hunger. A violent, restless hunger she hadn’t felt in years.

She wanted to see him.

She wanted to look into the eyes of the man who had molded her childhood with blood and steel. Her protector and her mentor

She wanted to ask him why the scent of death was stronger than the scent of medicine in a place that was supposed to heal people.

And if she didn’t like his answer...

Rachel smiled faintly to herself, a cold little curve of her lips that made Vivian glance at her from the corner of her eye.

"Relax," Vivian said lightly. "We’re just going to talk to him. Right?"

Rachel didn’t answer.

The elevator doors loomed ahead of them, sleek and silver. Ethan stepped forward first, scanning for traps, because he trusted this place about as far as he could throw it. Which, given the atmosphere, wasn’t very far at all.

Nothing happened.

He hit the button.

The lights flickered briefly before the elevator groaned and began to ascend.

They waited in tense silence.

When the doors finally slid open, Rachel stepped inside first without hesitation. Vivian followed, then Aria, with Ethan watching the hallway one last time before stepping in after them.

The doors closed.

The ascent was slow. Too slow.

Each floor they passed only made Rachel’s rage grow heavier, thicker, until it was a physical thing pressing against the walls of the elevator. Ethan’s knuckles were white around his weapon. Vivian’s grin hadn’t faded, but even she was standing a little straighter now.

Aria glanced at Rachel, worry flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t speak.

Not yet.

The top floor came into view on the panel above the door.

Rachel could feel him waiting.

The elevator slowed.

Stopped.

The doors slid open with a soft chime.

Rachel stepped out without hesitation, her footsteps quiet but carrying purpose as the others followed behind her.

She could see the office at the end of the hall.

She could feel his eyes on her already.

And for the first time since they had arrived, Rachel let the bloodlust bleed fully into the air, unrestrained, thick enough that even the walls seemed to shiver.

If her Grandfather had gone too far, she would have to her best to crush him and set him back on the right course

This was going to be a conversation they would all remember.