The training hall was silent except for the sound of bare feet on stone and sharp, controlled breaths.
Mia moved like a blade through water—fluid, precise, unforgiving. Ludwig's method. No forms, no katas, only intention. Strike. Shift. Destroy. Survive. She had been at it for nearly an hour, muscles burning, sweat carving lines down her back and temples. The shaved sides of her head glistened under the low lights.
She needed this.
After the ridiculous water fight, after Ishtar's hands lingering too long on her waist while they "washed" the cars, after that quick, stolen kiss behind the vehicle when no one was looking… she needed the pain. The clarity. The control.
In her mind, the temple had already assembled.
The circular black stone table glowed faintly. The alters were all present.
Lilith lounged at the head like a queen on her throne, one leg crossed over the other, a dangerous smile playing on her lips. Noire leaned against the table beside her, practically purring. Mircalla sat rigid, disapproving. Carmilla hovered anxiously. Blanche mirrored Mia's every movement in perfect silence. Even little Bébé was there, peeking from behind Carmilla's chair.
"Enough with the noble warrior act," Lilith drawled, her voice low and amused. "You kissed her back. We all felt it. That little spark of want before you pulled away."
Noire let out a soft, throaty laugh. "She tastes like fire and safety. I want more. I want her hands on us again. Harder this time."
"She's dangerous," Mircalla cut in sharply. "All of them are. Ishtar is attached to one of the old families. Aglaë is too fragile—she'll break if we break. Octave sees too much. This entire Sanctuary is a beautiful cage with better lighting."
Carmilla shook her head. "It's not like that. They're… trying. For the first time, someone wants to help us without owning us. We need this. Mia needs this."
Bébé whimpered. "What if they stop liking us when they see everything? What if Ishtar sees the real us and leaves?"
Mia's fist sliced through the air with a sharp *crack*, followed immediately by a spinning elbow that would have shattered bone. She dropped low into a sweep, rolled, and came up striking again. Faster. Harder.
Her voice echoed inside the temple, calm but edged with steel.
"I kissed her because I wanted to. Not you. Not Noire. *Me.*"
Lilith's grin widened. "Liar. You were one breath away from letting Noire take over and fuck her right there against the car."
"No." Mia pivoted hard, driving an imaginary knee into a throat. "I'm still here. I'm choosing when and how much. Not you. Not anymore."
Noire stretched languidly across the table. "You can keep telling yourself that, darling. But your body doesn't lie. Your pulse goes crazy when she looks at you like she wants to devour us. And we like it."
Mircalla leaned forward. "This flirtation is a distraction. Triple E won't wait forever. The clone is out there wearing our face. We should be planning, not playing house with broken toys from the same system that made us."
Mia stopped mid-motion. For three full seconds she stood perfectly still, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her chin onto the stone floor.
Then she exploded.
A brutal combination—palm strike, elbow, knee, spinning back fist. Each impact echoed loudly in the empty hall. She was no longer practicing. She was fighting something invisible. Something inside.
In the temple, she appeared standing at the center of the table, towering over them all.
"Listen to me," she said, voice low and final. "Ishtar, Aglaë, Octave… they're here. They're real. I don't fully trust them yet, but I trust them more than I ever trusted Triple E. We are not going back. We are not running. We are building something, even if it's messy."
She looked directly at Lilith.
"You want violence? Good. Save it for when they come for us. Noire… you can want her. But you wait for my word."
A heavy silence settled over the temple.
Lilith tilted her head, studying her with something almost like respect. "For now," she conceded, smirking. "But don't pretend you're fully in control, little queen. We all felt how wet you got when she pressed against you."
Mia didn't answer. She simply dropped into a low stance and resumed training, pushing her body harder than ever. The burn in her muscles drowned out the voices, if only for a moment.
Blanche, still mirroring her every move with eerie grace, offered the faintest smile.
*You're getting stronger.*
Mia finished the sequence with a final, powerful shout that tore from her throat. She stood there afterward, hands on her knees, breathing hard, heart hammering against her ribs.
The temple slowly faded.
For the first time in a long while, the silence in her head felt almost… earned.
Almost.