The air still carried the lingering tension when Natasha finally stopped moving instinctively and uncontrollably. Her body, which had previously seemed guided by something external, began to slow down gradually, as if an invisible thread had been suddenly cut. Her gaze lost that fixed, distant gleam and slowly returned to normal, blinking a few times like someone who had just woken from a state too deep to be comfortable. She brought her hand to her head, pressing the side of her temple forcefully, as if trying to organize her thoughts, which still seemed jumbled.

The surrounding silence further highlighted the contrast between before and now. There was no more violent advance, no more blind impulses, no more of that almost desperate need that had taken hold of her minutes before. Only confusion remained.

"What... what the hell was that?" Natasha asked, her voice lower than usual, filled with genuine disbelief. Her gaze moved quickly among the people present, trying to find some kind of logical explanation in someone’s face. When her eyes met Charlotte’s and then Serafall’s, her expression shifted slightly, as if she were waiting for one of them to have a clear answer.

"I..." she began, but the sentence died halfway through. Even she didn’t seem to know how to finish it.

Serafall didn’t take long to respond. She crossed her arms again, still with an expression that mixed weariness with a slight trace of lingering disbelief, as if she were still trying to accept what had just happened.

"You freaked out," she said bluntly, without softening anything at all. "You ran thousands of kilometers in a straight line and threw yourself on top of my son as if your life depended on it." She paused briefly, just long enough for the weight of the sentence to settle before finishing. "Calling him ’master’."

The reaction was immediate.

Natasha went pale.

It wasn’t a subtle change. The blood seemed to simply drain from her face in an instant, her eyes widening clearly as the information slowly clicked into her head. For a full second, she said nothing, just stood there, motionless, as if trying to confirm if it was really true or some kind of absurd misunderstanding.

"I... did that?" she asked, more to herself than to the others, her voice coming out a little weaker than usual.

No one corrected her.

The silence around her spoke for itself.

Natasha brought her hand to her face, partially covering her eyes for a moment, clearly trying to cope with the growing embarrassment. When she spoke again, her voice came out more controlled, but still laden with confusion.

"I don’t know what happened," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I just... heard something." She frowned slightly, as if trying to remember more precisely. "It wasn’t exactly a clear voice... but it was like someone was calling me." She took a deep breath, her body still adjusting to her own state. "And there was a smell."

Charlotte tilted her head slightly, interested.

"What kind of smell?" she asked immediately. Natasha hesitated for a second.

"Good," she replied bluntly. "Very good." Her gaze drifted for a moment, as if trying to relive the sensation. "It was... strong. It couldn’t be ignored. I felt it and... I just went." She pressed her fingers lightly against her own leg, still trying to understand. "I didn’t think. I just ran."

Charlotte was already moving before Natasha had even finished speaking. She approached quickly, her gaze focused, analytical, completely immersed in scientific mode again. Without asking permission, she leaned forward slightly, observing Natasha’s pupils with extreme attention.

"Look at me," she said, raising her hand slightly to direct the focus.

Natasha obeyed, still a little dazed, but without resistance.

Charlotte analyzed for a few seconds, her eyes moving rapidly between small details, assessing dilation, response, stability. Then, she brought her hand close to Natasha’s body, not touching directly, but clearly feeling something beyond the physical. Blood energy.

She remained silent for a few more seconds, concentrating.

Then she stepped back slightly.

"There’s no apparent instability," she said, more to herself than to the others. "Consistent energy flow, without uncontrolled spikes. Vital functions are... too normal, considering what just happened."

Natasha blinked a few times, still trying to keep up.

"Normal?" she repeated, clearly unconvinced.

Charlotte gave a small nod.

"Yes. In your current state, you are completely stable," she replied. "What happened before left no visible residue in your system. At least not now."

Natasha was silent for a moment, absorbing it. The feeling of confusion hadn’t completely disappeared, but at least there was a small foundation to hold on to.

"I..." she began again, but stopped, bringing her hand to her throat this time.

Her expression changed slightly.

"I’m thirsty," she said, now more directly.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"Very thirsty," Natasha added, her tone becoming more serious.

Serafall sighed softly, as if this were the easiest part to solve in everything that was happening.

"That makes sense," she said. "It’s been a long time since you drank blood properly." She was already turning around, clearly ready to act. "I’ll get you a bag."

Natasha nodded, still a little distant, but clearly relieved by the idea.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Serafall didn’t answer, only began to walk away, already focused on resolving that basic need before it became another problem.

The silence that settled after Serafall left wasn’t comfortable.

Natasha remained still for a few seconds, looking at the ground before slowly raising her gaze towards Victor, as if gathering the minimum courage necessary to speak.

She no longer seemed disoriented, nor dominated by that strange impulse from before. Now there was only awareness. And, with it, came the full weight of the situation.

"Victor..." she began, her voice lower, without the usual firmness she carried. She hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes wandering for a second before returning to him.

"I... I’m sorry." The sentence came out directly, but laden with evident discomfort, as if apologizing wasn’t something she did often. "For what I did a moment ago. That... wasn’t normal."

"It’s okay," he said, without much weight in his voice, as if trying to end it simply. "Seriously. I’ve been through stranger things today." He paused briefly, as if to add something, and then continued. "But..."

He stopped mid-sentence.

His gaze shifted slightly to the side.

And that was enough for everyone to understand what he hadn’t said.

Because Rakshasa was still there.

And her state... didn’t help at all.

She wasn’t as aggressive as before, nor did she display that cold, calculated posture she usually carried. On the contrary. There was a clear agitation in her behavior, a kind of restlessness that contrasted completely with the image she had maintained until then. Her gaze was fixed on Victor again, but now it wasn’t analysis. It wasn’t strategy.

It was... something much more direct.

Much harder to ignore.

Charlotte was the first to fully notice, tilting her head slightly as she observed the change in behavior with renewed interest. She didn’t say anything immediately, but the glint in her eyes made it clear that this was yet another curious detail for her.

Natasha, on the other hand, noticed a second later.

And her expression shifted slightly.

Not to immediate irritation, but to something more attentive, more aware of the dynamic that was forming there. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes quickly moved from Victor to Rakshasa, analyzing, connecting the dots, understanding more than what was being said aloud.

Victor spoke again, still looking somewhat sideways.

"You’ve complicated things for me now," he said, finally, but without finishing the thought.

He didn’t need to.

The context spoke for itself.

Silence returned for a moment, but this time it wasn’t just awkward. It was laden with something more... undefined.

Charlotte crossed her arms, clearly intrigued by the direction things were taking.

Natasha let out a small sigh through her nose, now more composed, but still with a slight trace of discomfort from everything that had happened.

And Rakshasa—

Rakshasa didn’t look away for a moment.

The atmosphere hadn’t returned to normal.

Not even close.

The air still carried that uncomfortable silence when Serafall’s presence was felt again, quick and direct as always.

In one hand, she carried a bag of blood already prepared, still slightly cold, the dark contents moving smoothly inside the translucent container. Without wasting time, she threw the bag towards Natasha with a precise, almost casual movement, as if she were throwing something trivial.

Natasha reacted purely by reflex, raising her hand and catching the bag in the air without difficulty. The gesture was automatic, but her gaze still carried that mixture of confusion and slight embarrassment from before. Still, the thirst she had mentioned hadn’t disappeared. On the contrary, it seemed more present now that there was an immediate solution before her.

She didn’t hesitate much.

With a quick movement, she opened the bag and brought it directly to her mouth, tilting her head slightly back as she began to drink. The first contact was immediate—

And completely wrong.

Her body reacted before her mind even had time to process. In less than a second, Natasha froze, her eyes widening slightly, and then the reflex came violently. She pushed the bag away abruptly, bringing her other hand to her mouth as she leaned forward, coughing hard. The blood she had just ingested was expelled almost instantly, falling to the ground in an irregular jet.

The sound was dry.

Unpleasant.

And utterly unexpected. Natasha gasped for a moment, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she recovered from the reaction. Her face contorted into a clear expression of disgust, as if she had just ingested something completely rotten.

"Is this a joke?" she asked, her voice heavy with genuine irritation as she still tried to control her breathing. Her gaze went straight to Serafall, accusing. "Are you trying to get revenge for what I did to your son?"

Serafall blinked once, clearly taken aback by the reaction.

"What?" she replied, confused. "No. It’s blood. That’s all."

Natasha let out a small, humorless laugh, wiping her lips again as if she could still taste it.

"’That’s all’?" she repeated, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "This tastes like garbage." She grimaced slightly, the discomfort still evident. "It’s not just bad. It’s... wrong."

Serafall’s expression changed.

The initial confusion gave way to something more irritated, almost offended.

"Wrong?" she repeated, crossing her arms again. "This blood is mine."

The way she said it made it clear that it wasn’t an irrelevant detail. Quite the contrary. There was a certain implicit pride there, as if that, in itself, was already a guarantee of absolute quality.

Natasha arched an eyebrow slightly, still clearly bothered.

"Then that explains it," she replied dryly.

The comment was enough to make Serafall’s expression twitch slightly.

"It explains nothing," she retorted, now more firmly. "This blood is perfectly usable. It’s been used before, and no one has ever had a reaction like this."

Charlotte, who until then had observed everything with silent attention, finally moved. Her gaze carried no judgment, only growing curiosity. She took a few steps forward and, without asking permission, took the blood bag directly from Natasha’s hand.

Natasha didn’t resist.

She was too busy trying to get rid of the unpleasant sensation that still seemed stuck in her throat.

Charlotte lifted the bag slightly, calmly examining its contents. There was no visible alteration. The color was correct, the viscosity seemed normal, no apparent sign of contamination. Still, she didn’t trust appearances alone.

Without hesitation, she brought a finger to the opening of the bag, collecting a small amount of the liquid. She observed it for a second—

And then brought it to her mouth.

The gesture was too natural for an ordinary person.

She tasted it.

And immediately nodded, as if confirming something expected.

"Sweetie, as always," she commented, in an almost casual tone, as if evaluating a familiar dessert.

Serafall tilted her head slightly, expecting a different conclusion from Natasha’s reaction.

But Charlotte didn’t stop there.

She lowered the bag slowly, her gaze changing. The initial lightness disappeared, replaced by something more serious, more focused. Her mind was clearly connecting the dots too quickly.

"I think we have a problem," she said finally.

The tone was enough to cut through the atmosphere.

Serafall frowned immediately.

"What problem?" she asked directly.

Charlotte looked away from her bag and glanced first at Natasha, then at Victor. Her expression wasn’t one of panic, but of intense interest, the kind of interest that arises when something unexpected opens up new possibilities.

"A big problem," she replied bluntly.

Natasha crossed her arms slightly, still uneasy, but now more attentive.

"Would you like to explain further?" she asked.

Charlotte took a deep breath, organizing her thoughts before speaking.

"Her body didn’t reject the blood because it was bad," she began. "It rejected it because... it no longer recognizes it as adequate."

The silence that followed was immediate.

Serafall narrowed her eyes.

"That doesn’t make sense," she said.

"It does," Charlotte replied calmly. "If you consider what his blood did to her."

Her gaze went straight to Victor.

Natasha followed her gaze a second later.

And this time, there was no uncontrollable impulse. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

But there was... something.

Something more subtle.

Deeper.

Charlotte continued.

"Her system was rewritten," she explained. "His blood didn’t just heal. It replaced patterns. It altered her body’s baseline." She slightly lifted the blood bag still in her hand. "This... no longer meets the criteria."

Serafall was silent for a moment, clearly processing.

Natasha slowly uncrossed her arms.

"So you’re saying that..." she began.

Charlotte didn’t let her finish.

"That now there’s a new dominant pattern," she completed. "And everything indicates that this pattern..." she tilted her head slightly, a small smile appearing at the corner of her lips, "...is him."

The atmosphere grew even heavier.

Victor, who until then had only been observing, blinked once, as if expecting it to end in some logical way.

It didn’t.

Charlotte then turned her body completely towards him.

"Victor," she called, in a tone almost too gentle for the context.

He didn’t like that immediately.

"No," he replied before she even finished.

Charlotte completely ignored the answer.

"Could you give her a little bit of your blood, please?" she asked, clasping her hands lightly in front of her body in an almost theatrical way.

Victor was silent for a second.

His gaze went to Natasha.

Then to Serafall.

Then back to Charlotte.

"...Are you serious?" he asked.

Charlotte smiled.

Very.

"Seriously," she replied.