G-Unit.

  A unit designated for ghouls integrated into the E.R.O and the A.A.A.P.

  Some joined willingly.

  Others didn’t get a choice.

  Their primary function: assist in securing, containing, and suppressing anomalous events. Secondary functions included field detection of metaphysical phenomena, active combat support, and—when necessary—the use of ghoul blood as a catalyst, weapon, or sensor against rift-based entities.

  The text scrolled on.

  Blood resonance.

  Aura inversion.

  Residual tracking.

  Containment thresholds.

  Howard barely followed any of it.

  He sat slouched in the chair, eyes half-lidded as the briefing prompt continued to crawl across the wall-sized screen. He didn’t bother pretending to be engaged.

  Honestly, he just wanted to lay down.

  Cellirna sat a few chairs over, one leg crossed over the other, watching him with idle curiosity. She didn’t look bored. She didn’t look impressed either. Just… observant.

  The room itself was standard-issue briefing architecture. Clean lines. Neutral colors. No windows. A long table that hadn’t seen actual paperwork in years. The hum of concealed projectors and containment fields vibrating just under hearing range.

  Howard blinked slowly.

  This was it, apparently.

  His ghoul and monster crash course.

  The screen shifted to another slide, and Howard suppressed a sigh.

  “Bored?”

  Howard glanced at her. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Darlin’, you could at least try to conceal it,” Cellirna said dryly. “What if I made this PowerPoint?”

  He squinted at her. “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Were you trying to be funny?”

  She shrugged, lips twitching. “More for myself than for you.” She snickered softly.

  Howard turned back to the screen, letting the information wash over him in the simplest way possible.

  In basic terms: ghouls were humanoid.

  Monsters weren’t.

  He built a mental list just to keep himself awake. Vampires. Werewolves. Wendigos—ghouls. Humanoid. Anything else? Monsters. Krakens. Dragons. Big, impossible things that didn’t wear human shapes.

  Simple enough.

  He turned toward her again. “So… how’d you become a vampire? Rift?”

  Cellirna laughed once. “No. I’m a tad too young for that. I was bitten. Over two hundred years ago.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Well,” Howard said, thinking it through, “if biting’s still how it works, I’m surprised there aren’t more vampires.”

  Her expression shifted. “Unlike the books and movies that romanticize it, the process is brutal. Invasive. Physical and metaphysical. Most don’t survive the change.”

  “Oh,” Howard said quietly.

  She smiled again, lighter this time, and checked the schedule on her tablet. “There. Now you’re caught up on ghouls and monsters.”

  She rose from her chair. “Next up—meeting the team.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes. Why not now?”

  Howard stood. “How long have you worked here?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  “…Huh?!”

  She laughed. “I actually worked here seventy years ago. Different name back then. But they welcomed me back.” She grinned, fangs just barely visible. “I’m a good bloodsucker, y’know.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Howard chuckled despite himself. “You met the team yet?”

  “Nope.” She gestured toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked, Howard found his thoughts lagging a step behind his body. Everything still felt unreal. The suite. The briefing. The fact that people were talking to him like he belonged here.

  They seemed to trust him.

  “They don’t trust us.”

  “Please stop invading my thoughts.”

  “Nothing else to do. Also, I don’t trust this vampire.”

  “Why.”

  “She keeps looking at you while you look away.”

  “Howard,” Cellirna cooed.

  He flinched. “Huh? Sorry. Zoned out.”

  “I can tell,” she said lightly. “I was going to ask how it feels.”

  “…Feels how?”

  “To be you,” she clarified. “This new thing.” She studied him as they walked. “In my entire life, I’ve never seen anything like you. No aura. Hosting a Demurge.”

  Howard swallowed. “I feel like nothing. And I’d rather not talk about it.”

  She nodded, surprisingly respectful. “Does the creature know what’s happening now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” A pause. “So it’s aware of me.”

  “Yup. And he doesn’t like you.”

  Cellirna’s eyebrow lifted. “Is that so—”

  They stopped in front of a pair of reinforced doors before she could finish.

  “Oh my,” she said, glancing up at the designation panel. “Looks like we’re here.” She smiled and gestured forward. “Let’s meet the team.”

  The doors slid open.

  Inside was… a lounge.

  A break space.

  A wide couch faced a mounted TV quietly playing some forgettable daytime rerun. A kitchenette lined one wall, microwave, fridge, cabinets stocked with snacks that looked too normal for a place like this. A table sat off to the side with mismatched chairs, the kind collected over years rather than bought in a set.

  And occupying the room were four beings who very clearly didn’t belong anywhere normal. They all wore blue and black jumpsuits.

  Cellirna glanced down at her tablet, scrolling once. “Oh, I see,” she murmured. “Two gnome twins. A werewolf…” She looked up, smiling faintly. “I do hope we can all get along.” A soft snicker followed.

  Her gaze slid to the last figure. Her expression shifted. “Oh my,” she said, “I have not crossed paths with thy kind since Egypt.” She smiled amused. “Damn, that takes me back.”

  Howard took them in one by one.

  The twins sat on opposite ends of the couch, identical in a way that felt intentional rather than genetic. Short—barely over four feet—with broad shoulders and thick forearms. Their skin had a faint stone-like grain to it, like granite smoothed by time. One had copper eyes, the other silver, and both stared at Howard with the same flat, appraising look. One was chewing something loudly. The other was blowing a gum bubble.

  The werewolf leaned against the kitchenette counter, arms crossed. He was tall, even slouched—broad, corded with muscle, dark hair pulled back into a rough tie. His eyes were amber, sharp but not hostile. Claws rested casually against his palms, half-retracted. He smelled like coffee and ozone.

  The last one sat alone at the table.

  They looked human, slim build, dark skin, eyes black all the way through, no whites at all. Their presence bent the room just slightly, like sound dampening around them. They didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched.

  Inside Howard’s head, the entity stirred once… then sighed.

  It eyed the gnomes. “Good at digging. Bad at thinking.”

  Its attention slid lazily to the werewolf. “Predictable rage engine. Strong, sure. Boring.”

  Then the last one.

  A pause.

  “…Huh. Whatever that is, it’s not worth my time.”

  The entity yawned—an actual, exaggerated mental yawn. “Wake me up if a Veythari walks in.”

  Howard swallowed.

  Cellirna clapped her hands once, bright and effortless. “Well then,” she said, smiling at the room. “Looks like G-Unit’s finally all in one place.”

  “I knew I smelled something rotten,” the werewolf said casually from the kitchenette, not even bothering to look up.

  Cellirna ignored the jab completely.

  She stepped forward instead, posture easy, voice smooth. “Cellirna,” she said. “Vampire. Temporary escort. Possibly permanent headache.”

  The two gnomes broke into wide, identical smiles and waved enthusiastically.

  Howard blinked. “…Why can’t they talk?”

  The twins exchanged a look, then pointed at each other, then made an exaggerated slicing motion across their throats.

  Cellirna winced sympathetically. “Aww. A Veythari used an ability on you.” She clicked her tongue. “Shame.”

  She turned her attention to the figure seated at the table, eyes bright with curiosity. “And what’s a mummy doing all the way over here?”

  The figure sighed deeply. “First of all,” he said, voice carrying a thick, unexpected accent—more modern than ancient. “I’m not from Egypt.”

  Howard stiffened. “A mummy?!”

  “And I’m not even old,” the man continued, rolling his shoulders. “I just got buried in cursed land. Long story. Very unlucky.”

  Cellirna laughed, delighted. “Oh, cursed land will do it every time. What flavor?”

  “Colonial-era,” he replied flatly. “Mixed with bad geology.”

  “Oof,” she said. “Hate when that happens.”

  He nodded. “You get it.”

  “I do,” she replied warmly.

  He gestured to himself. “Name’s Delshe.” He points at the werewolf. “Johnson,” he said. “And yeah, he stays half-shifted on purpose. Reasons unknown.”

  The werewolf finally turned, offering a lazy two-finger salute.

  One of the gnomes puffed out his chest and pointed at himself.

  “Thing One,” Cellirna supplied.

  The other gnome crossed his arms and nodded once.

  “And Thing Two.”

  Howard wasn’t sure if that was official or a joke. No one corrected it.

  Johnson’s gaze finally settled on Howard, sharp but curious. “So,” he said, “you’re the anomaly.”

  Howard met his eyes, face blank, voice steady.

  “I’m just Howard.”

  Johnson’s lips pulled back into a sharp grin. “Fierce personality,” he said. “You might be worth some shit after all.”

  Howard frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Johnson shrugged. “You just don’t seem like the—”

  “Shouldn’t you get to know someone first before you—”

  “Hey, kid.”

  Howard’s jaw tightened. “I’m not a kid. And I’m not trying to cause problems. I just want respect. That’s all.”

  Johnson stepped closer. He was taller than Howard, broader too, shadow falling over him. He leaned down slightly and sniffed, nostrils flaring.

  “You want respect?” Johnson said. “That’s fine. But around here you gotta—”

  Howard’s fist connected with Johnson’s snout.

  The impact was sharp and clean. The next thing Johnson knew, he was airborne, skidding across the room and crashing into the far couch in a mess of limbs and cushions.

  Cellirna whistled low.

  Delshe smirked, folding his arms.

  The gnome twins doubled over in silent, wheezing laughter.

  Johnson pushed himself up, laughing as blood trickled from his nose. “Yeah,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s—”

  He wobbled.

  Then dropped to one knee.

  Howard didn’t move. He just stared at him, expression flat.

  After a moment, Howard turned to the rest of the room.

  “Let’s try this again.”

  He took a breath.

  “Hi. I’m Howard. I’m not thrilled about being here, but I only ask one thing.” His eyes swept across them, steady and unflinching. “Respect. That’s all.”

  Silence.

  Then nods.

  Delshe chuckled. “Well then,” he said. “Looks like this is gonna shake things up.”

  Cellirna’s smile widened as she lifted her tablet. “Perfect timing, too.” She turned the screen so they could all see it. “We just got our first mission. Together.”

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