Morrigan: Year 3101.

Kazuo stepped out of the shower, water dripping from his hair as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked into the main room of the safehouse and froze. Siobhàn sat at the table, surrounded by an arsenal that would make a small militia jealous.

Two shotguns, a sniper rifle, and three handguns were laid out neatly. Boxes of ammunition littered the surface. Siobhàn hunched over, focused intently on a handful of shotgun shells.

"The heck are you doing?" Kazuo asked, moving to his bag to grab some clothes.

Siobhàn didn't look up. "Enchanting these shells. They'll punch through armor like it's paper."

Kazuo pulled on a pair of pants. "We expecting a war or something?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"As the saying goes...Better to have it and not need it," she said, setting down one shell and picking up another. "Than need it and not have it."

Kazuo couldn't argue with Siobhàn's logic. He'd seen too many close calls where a little extra firepower could've made all the difference like what happened back when he was still being hunted by that vampire assassin. Still, the sight of all those weapons made his skin crawl. It wasn't just about being prepared - this was overkill.

He tugged a shirt over his head. "Never thought I'd see you go all witchy. You've been all guns and fists since we met."

Siobhàn shrugged. "Magic's slower. I use it when I can prep in advance. For quick and dirty, nothing beats lead."

"What other tricks you got up your sleeve?" Kazuo plopped down in a chair across from her.

"Enchantment mines," Siobhàn said.

"Really? How does that work?"

"It's in the name. Plant 'em anywhere. When some poor fucker gets close..." She made an exploding gesture with her hands.

"That's useful. What else?"

"I can make clothes bulletproof. Won't stop the force though. Still hurts like a bitch when you get hit."

Kazuo leaned forward. "What caliber we talking? Like .50 cal or...?"

"Any caliber," Siobhàn said. "RPGs and shit like that, you're fucked. But bullets? No problem."

"Is that so? Interesting," Kazuo leaned back in his chair, eyeing his jacket draped over a nearby chair. "Hey, think you could work your magic on my jacket? Make it bulletproof?"

Siobhàn glanced up from her work. "Sure, why not? Pass it over."

Kazuo grabbed the jacket and tossed it to her. Siobhàn caught it with one hand, setting aside the shells she'd been working on. She spread the jacket out on the table, smoothing out the wrinkles.

"This might take a few minutes," she said, closing her eyes and placing her palms flat on the fabric.

Kazuo watched as Siobhàn's hands began to glow with a soft blue light. The light spread across the jacket, seeping into the fibers. She muttered under her breath, words in a language Kazuo didn't recognize.

"So, uh, how long does this enchantment last?" Kazuo asked, breaking the silence.

Siobhàn opened one eye. "Depends on how much it gets used. More bullets it stops, faster it wears off. But even without getting shot, give it a few months before you need a recharge."

"Huh, neat," Kazuo said. "Any downsides I should know about?"

"It'll be a bit heavier," Siobhàn replied, returning her focus to the jacket. "And it might get warm if you're in a firefight. Nothing too bad though."

The blue light faded, and Siobhàn lifted her hands. She picked up the jacket, giving it a once-over before tossing it back to him.

"There you go. One bulletproof jacket, as requested."

"Thanks," Kazuo said, raising his jacket in the air. "Morrigan teach you all this?"

Siobhàn shook her head and went back to her work. "Defensive stuff, yeah. But the enchantments? That's old family magic from back home."

"Ireland, right?" Kazuo said. "You never talk much about it."

"Not much to say. Village full of ignorant fucks who couldn't handle someone different."

"Different how?"

Siobhàn set down the shell she was working on and met Kazuo's eyes. "You ever see a kid make flowers bloom by touching them? Or heal a bird's broken wing?"

Kazuo shook his head.

"Well, my neighbors did," Siobhàn said. "And they didn't like it one bit."

"Why? What happened?"

"They came for us. My family. Middle of the night. Torches and pitchforks, like something out of a bad movie."

"Jesus."

"I was hiding in the cellar," Siobhàn continued. "Heard the screams. Smelled the smoke. When it was quiet, I came out. Found what was left of my family."

Kazuo sat in stunned silence.

"That's when Morrigan showed up," she said. "Found me covered in ash and blood. Took me in. Taught me to use my power. To fight back."

"And the village?"

A cold smile spread across Siobhàn's face. "Let's just say there's one less shithole in Ireland these days."

"Damn. I had no idea."

"Not many do," Siobhàn said. She picked up another shell. "Now you know why I don't like talking about the old country."

The story hit him like a gut punch. He'd known Siobhàn was tough, but this? This was next-level stuff. A whole family wiped out for what? Some backwater superstition? It explained a lot about her - the constant vigilance, the ruthless efficiency. He'd always seen her as Morrigan's attack dog, but now he realized she was so much more. A survivor. A force of nature. And, he realized with a chill, someone you absolutely did not want to fuck with.

"Yeah," Kazuo said. "I get it."

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft scraping as Siobhàn worked on the ammunition.

"So," he said. "How long before those shells are ready to crap someone's day up?"

"Give me another hour. Then we'll be locked and loaded."

Kazuo's phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, glancing at the screen. A text from Amélie.

"Call me," it read.

He looked up at Siobhàn, still working on her arsenal. "Hey, I'm gonna head out for a bit."

Her head snapped up. "Bad idea. We're supposed to be lying low."

"Relax," Kazuo said, gesturing to the empty kitchen. "We need food. I'm starving here."

Siobhàn sighed, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a plain black cap and tossed it to him. "Wear this. It'll help with the cameras."

Kazuo caught the cap, turning it over in his hands. He put it on, adjusting the brim. "All this fancy tech, and our best defense is a baseball cap? Fucking ridiculous."

He headed for the door, Siobhàn's eyes following him. As soon as he was out of the apartment, Kazuo fought the urge to call Amélie immediately. He knew Siobhàn well enough to guess she'd be watching the building's cameras. A sudden phone call the moment he left would raise suspicions.

Instead, he walked casually down the street, hands in his pockets, cap pulled low. He wandered for a few blocks before ducking into a nearby supermarket.

Once inside, he pulled out his phone and dialed Amélie's number.

The call connected, but instead of Amélie's voice, he heard a high-pitched giggle. It sounded like something out of a Japanese anime - all squeaky and cutesy.

"What the fuck?" Kazuo muttered, grabbing a shopping basket. He spoke into the phone, keeping his voice low. "Who is this?"

More giggling. "I can't believe it worked! This is so cool!"

Kazuo frowned, grabbing a loaf of bread off a shelf. "Look, I don't know who you are, but—"

"Oh, my name's not important right now," the voice interrupted. "But the information I have for you is."

"What information?"

"There's a group of mercs heading to your safehouse. They'll be there at midnight. You need to get out of there fast."

Kazuo froze, a can of soup halfway to his basket. He set it down slowly. "Listen, lady... girl... whoever you are. I don't know what kind of prank this is, but you better get off my friend's number before I call the cops and have you arrested for identity theft."

The girl laughed. "If you want to call the cops on me, be my guest, Tanaka. We both know they're looking for you too."

Kazuo's blood ran cold. "How do you know my name?"

"It's hard to ignore you when you're all over the news," she said. "You really suck at hiding, you know that?"

"Bullshit," Kazuo snapped, tossing items into his basket. "Who are you really? How'd you get this number?"

"I told you, that's not important right now," the girl said. "What's important is that you're in danger. You need to move."

"And why should I believe you?" Kazuo asked, moving down another aisle. "For all I know, you're working with the people after us."

The girl sighed. "If I was working with them, why would I warn you? Use your brain, idiot."

"Maybe you're trying to flush us out. Get us to leave the safehouse so your buddies can grab us on the street."

"Oh my god, you're so paranoid," the girl groaned. "Look, I'm trying to help you here. I know that you have the blood to end all vampires."

Kazuo paused at the checkout line. "How do you know about my blood?"

"I know a lot of things. Like how you and your witch friend barely made it out of La Defense. Or how you've got a vampire problem that's about to get a whole lot worse."

"Fuck," Kazuo muttered. He handed some cash to the cashier, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder. "Alright, let's say I believe you. Why are you helping us?"

"Because we want you alive."

"We? Whose we?"

"Grrr...you ask so many questions. Are you really this stubborn and annoying?"

"Hey, you're the one asking."

"Fine," she sighed. "I'm a member of Les Gardiens de la Nuit."

Is that another vampire clan in the mix? He'd barely managed to escape the last one. He wondered if he'd ever catch a break, or if his life would be an endless cycle of running and hiding.

Here he was, a simple journalist, now caught in the crosshairs of multiple supernatural factions. He felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and more than a little scared.

"Great another freaking vampire clan after me," he said.

"Yeah, but we're not here to kill you. We want you alive."

Kazuo grabbed his bags, heading for the exit. "Alive? Excuse me, but I don't believe you. Last vampire clan that did that sent an assassin after me. What makes you think you're not one?"

"Fine, then let those mercs kill you."

"How do you know about them anyways?"

"I have my sources," she said.

Kazuo stepped out onto the street, looking around. "Yeah, I'm sure your 'sources' are reliable."

"Why'd you even asked me then?"

"Whatever."

He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket, shaking his head. Probably just some bored kid with too much time on their hands. He hefted the grocery bags and started back towards the safehouse.

The walk back was uneventful. Kazuo kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with passersby. He climbed the stairs to their apartment, fumbling with his key before pushing the door open.

Siobhàn looked up from her work as he entered. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, well, had to dodge some cameras," Kazuo said, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. He started unpacking groceries, lining up cans and boxes.

"What'd you get?" she asked, coming over to inspect his haul.

"Bread, soup, some sandwich stuff," Kazuo said. "Oh, and these." He pulled out a pack of cookies, tossing them to Siobhàn.

She caught them one-handed. "Nice. Thanks."

As Kazuo put away the rest of the food, he debated telling Siobhàn about the call. It was probably nothing - just some prank. But what if it wasn't? What if there really were mercs coming?

He glanced at Siobhàn, who was already back at the table, munching on a cookie as she worked. No, he decided. No point in worrying her over what was likely bullshit. They were paranoid enough as it was.

"So," Kazuo said, closing the fridge. "How's the enchanting going?"

"Almost done," Siobhàn replied. "Just a few more shells to go."

Kazuo nodded, grabbing a soda from the counter. He popped it open, taking a long swig. As he lowered the can, his eyes fell on the clock. 9:30 PM. If that girl was telling the truth, they had less than three hours before all hell broke loose.

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. It was nothing. Just a prank call. They were safe here. They had to be.