Dawn Walker

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At last, Sekhmet spoke. "I am not the reincarnation of the Blood God."

His voice was calm, flat, and certain. There was no anger in it, no theatrical denial, no wounded pride at being compared to some ancient divine corpse. It sounded instead like a man refusing an inconvenient shipment someone had delivered to the wrong estate. That made the line hit harder than a sharper reply would have.

He continued before either of them could answer.

"And even if I were, I do not care about some blood throne. I have enough in front of me already. I do not need a god title, or part of legend, or a dead god’s burden dropped on my head."

That was when Bat Bat finally lost the battle against her own questions.

"Wait," she said, looking from one prisoner to the other. "Are you both millions of years old?"

Natasha actually looked at her. "No."

Bat Bat frowned so deeply it almost became dignified. "Then why were you talking like you were personally standing there at the meeting, nodding along and taking notes while ancient vampires ruined everything."

Sofia’s mouth moved very slightly, not into a smile, but near enough to suggest one might once have existed. Natasha answered instead.

"We did not witness it."

"Then?"

"It was passed down," Natasha said. "House to house. Elder to elder. Bloodline to bloodline. Surviving fragments telling the next surviving fragments what had happened and what it meant. That is why Sofia called it a myth among vampires. It is old enough to be damaged and important enough to remain."

Bat Bat folded her arms. "So it is inherited gossip with divine consequences."

Natasha looked at her without blinking. "That is a vulgar way to describe it."

Bat Bat lifted her chin. "That does not make it inaccurate."

Sofia ignored both of them and kept her eyes on Sekhmet. "We are part of the faction that still believes it. Not because we are simple. Not because we need a god to kneel under. Because the signs matter, and what we have seen around you fits too well."

Sekhmet’s expression did not change.

Inside his mind, however, something old shifted.

A battlefield above worlds.

A severed head turning through the air.

Blood spraying over divine land.

The taste of betrayal in the last memory of a dying god.

Lucard.

The Blood God.

His own creations tearing him apart.

The vision had not left him. It had only gone quiet when other matters forced themselves forward. Now, with Sofia’s words pressing at the sealed edges of it, the memory stirred again like a wounded beast remembering teeth.

He did not show any of that.

"I have a lot on my plate right now," he said. "I do not intend to chase a story I do not want."

That line was true in several different ways, which made it useful. It was also not a full denial, and Sofia was clever enough to hear the difference. Natasha heard it too.

Sofia answered carefully this time. "We expected resistance."

Bat Bat muttered, "That is one way to describe a noble ’absolutely not.’"

Natasha stepped in before Sofia could let pride make the conversation worse.

"We did not call you here to force a crown on you," she said. "We are not here to beg you to declare yourself." Her eyes remained steady. "We are here because whether you accept that title or not, the signs do not become less real."

Sekhmet looked at her.

Her tone had changed. Sofia carried the weight of story well, but Natasha carried the weight of practical meaning better. Good. That made the two of them more valuable than either one alone.

Then Natasha said the part that made him actually interested.

"We want to join you."

The silence that followed was much cleaner than the earlier one. Sofia did not interrupt to soften the line, and Bat Bat, to her great credit, managed not to gasp like a scandalized maid hearing a proposal through a keyhole.

Sofia added, "We want to serve you as our master."

That was direct enough to matter.

Sekhmet did not answer immediately. He studied them instead. They had dropped the performance now. No staged fighting. No testing lines. No careful bait. Just that. Join him. Serve him.

Interesting. Very interesting.

The offer was useful. The people offering it were dangerous.

That was the problem.

He looked at them not as prisoners, not as believers in a myth, but as pieces on a board. Sofia and Natasha were half-gods. Even sealed, even weakened, even forced down into a narrower state, their true ceiling stood above his. Right now their power had been reduced to a level he could tolerate. Their original worth was still much higher than his current authority could safely command.

Trust did not enter the equation. Not yet. He could not trust them.

Worse, he could not control them.

Inside his mind, he turned to the system.

"If I take them in now, can I control them?"

The reply came at once.

[Ding! SYSTEM Notification: Current Vampire Creation rank is insufficient.

Assessment: Target class exceeds safe control threshold.

Half-god bloodline subjects cannot be reliably converted, bound, or dominated under the present skill stage.

Recommendation: Upgrade Vampire Creation to the next rank.]

Sekhmet’s attention sharpened further.

What happens at the next rank?

[SYSTEM Notification: Next-rank upgrade will unlock a higher-order creation branch.

Projected functions include superior conversion compatibility, stronger bloodline binding, and advanced control options for high-grade vampire-class subjects.

Until then, such targets cannot be safely controlled.]

There it was. It was simple. It was annoying. But it was useful.

So that was the truth of it. Not now. Not safely. If he advanced Vampire Creation, then later these two might be converted, bound, or held properly beneath his line. But at present, accepting them would mean accepting strength that remained outside his hand.

It was stupid. It was dangerous.

Right now, however, they are still not worthless. Their powers were sealed down to Chaos Rank Three. In a crisis, during Mihos’s game or in any pressure point before Elena could move under the rules binding her, Sofia and Natasha could still be thrown where force was needed. Cannon fodder was too simple a name for that use, but the principle remained close enough. Sealed half-gods were still useful tools.

That thought did not trouble him.

Why should it?

He had not asked the world to become moral for his convenience.

At last he said, "No."

The word landed cold and clean.

Sofia’s expression changed first. Not into open anger, but into the tightness of someone who had expected difficulty and still disliked meeting it. Natasha’s face remained more controlled.

Then Sekhmet added, "Not now."

That stopped the refusal from becoming final. Good. The difference mattered.

Sofia narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why?"

"Because I do not trust you."

There was no point dressing it up. That line hit properly.

Natasha accepted it more cleanly than Sofia did, but both of them accepted it. They were old enough and dangerous enough to know that trust offered too easily was stupidity.

Sekhmet continued in the same even tone. "You are strong. You are ambitious. You have your own beliefs, your own loyalties, and your own reasons for saying what you have said tonight." He let the silence sit for one beat before finishing. "That makes you interesting. It does not make you safe."

Bat Bat whispered, "That was beautiful."

No one acknowledged her.

Sofia asked the only question worth asking after that. "Then how do we become safe?"

Sekhmet looked at both of them. Then he let the pause work a little before answering.

"You prove yourselves."

Natasha’s eyes sharpened. "How."

"I will tell you when the time comes."

That answer irritated Sofia. Good. Natasha did not look irritated. Only thoughtful. Better. That told him something useful about the split between them. Sofia pressed faster. Natasha measured deeper.

Sofia exhaled slowly through her nose. "That is not much of an answer."

"That is enough for one."

Bat Bat nodded solemnly, as if personally certified to interpret him. "That means the conversation is over unless he decides it is not."

Sofia looked at her. "You are everywhere."

Bat Bat lifted her chin. "Important things happen near me because fate has taste."

Sekhmet ignored all of that and studied the two women one last time.

They were close.

That part had been obvious even before the fake fight. Too close for convenience alone. Too comfortable in each other’s space. Too clean in shared timing. Too used to fighting and thinking beside one another.

He asked the question because relationships mattered. Lines of loyalty mattered. Hidden attachments mattered.

"What is your relationship?"

For the first time since the story had begun, both Sofia and Natasha went still in exactly the same way.

Sofia answered first, which was a mistake, because Natasha would have lied better.

"We are close friends."

Natasha followed immediately. "We work well together."

Sofia added, "We enjoy each other’s company."

Bat Bat stared at them. Then at Sekhmet. Then back at them again.

The silence after that was almost funny. They had answered the question.

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