Detention wasn't what he expected.
When Signos entered the Lunar Dining Hall, he was hit by the sheer stench of it. The place was a mess—tables stained with food long since congealed, the floor slick with something vaguely slimy, chairs overturned as if a storm had passed through. And the air was thick, humid, suffocating.
But still.
Still.
It wasn't as bad as the smell of death that lingered on her.
So, Signos chose the far side of the hall—near the trash bags—acting as the collector of the cleaned-up trash. It was the easiest place to breath, and from there, he watched.
Miro and Careina were both noticeably damp, hair clinging to their faces. He didn't ask. He didn't need to—Percy had already laid into them when he arrived.
Miro kept glancing at Signos, mouthing silent words and gesturing—pointing subtly to Careina, tugging at his blazer as if urging him to do something. Signos eventually shrugged off his jacket, but it turned out to be pointless.
Careina had already left with Kael. Her steps had been hurried, uneven. She didn't say anything when she passed him.
When the door shut behind them, Percy turned and gave Signos a look.
"She really did that?"
"I'm not sure," Signos replied, pointing a thumb toward Miro. "Ask him—he's the one saying it."
Miro gave a nonchalant shrug, arms crossed, looking way too pleased with himself. "By the way, you scared the new man, Percy. Maybe don't go full terrifying bloodline power mode on your first impression?"
Percy blinked, confused, before running a hand through his hair. "Ah. Right. I'd just woken up…"
Miro smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Still. Maybe keep the generational hatred to a minimum, alright? Even if your instincts are screaming 'annihilate.'"
Signos frowned. "What exactly happened?"
Percy gave a sheepish grin. "Uh… instinct?"
Miro chimed in, full grin now, arms crossed in a mock-stern pose. "Hunger instinct."
Kyan, who had just returned with an armful of trash bags, dropped them with a dull thud. "Wait. Did she see you eat?"
"She did," Miro answered cheerfully for Percy. "Asked why he was even there. I told her to ask him," he jabbed a thumb at Percy, "and then I gave her a little nudge and—well—history."
A collective "Ahhh" came from the group, as if that explained everything.
And honestly, it kind of did.
Eventually, the cleaning was done.
"Is this really necessary?" Miro groaned, stretching his back as they walked out into the hall. "I mean, the room can literally clean itself."
"It's supposed to be a punishment," Matilda muttered, eyes narrowed at him. "You know—consequences? Accountability?"
Miro shrugged, unfazed. "Hey, I just detect lies. I'm not some overpowered bloodsucker like Percy over here."
Up ahead, Percy glanced back but didn't respond.
Signos moved to walk beside him. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly.
Percy didn't stop walking. "I got a breakthrough on the missing students case," he said, voice low. Behind them, Miro and the others continued their banter, too absorbed to notice.
"The hunters?" Signos asked under his breath.
Percy shook his head. "No. Actually..." He glanced behind them briefly, then back at Signos.
Signos took the hint and nodded. "You'll investigate in the morning?"
Percy gave a quiet nod. "Yeah. And you'll handle the nights?"
"Yeah," Signos hummed. "You sure you don't want backup for the morning shift?"
"You know they can't handle sunlight," Percy replied, not without a hint of bitterness. His eyes flicked back toward the others.
"Me, Kyan, and Roujan can," Signos pointed out.
Percy let out a slow sigh. "But you still need Miro to sniff out the lies."
Signos frowned. "You still can't do it, huh?"
Percy shot him a glare. "And you still can't bring him into the light."
Signos said nothing for a beat, then gave a low grunt of agreement. "Right. We'll cover the dark. You handle the burn."
They walked in silence for a moment—just long enough to hear Miro laughing in the background, arguing with Kyan about whether vampire sunblock could ever be invented.
Signos glanced sideways. "Still no one else but you who can do that?"
Percy looked away, jaw tight. "No. Still just me."
His fist clenched at his side. Signos let out a low hum.
"Well, makes sense. This place is where they throw the 'invalid' ones like us." He tilted his head. "Kinda see why they tossed that human girl in with us."
Percy blinked. "Reina? What do you mean?"
Signos turned to him with a dry look, like he was staring at an idiot. "You and your obliviousness. You really need to start carrying a blood bag or two—you're clearly starving."
Percy looked offended. "I'm fine—"
They were just about to launch into full bickering mode when Miro casually draped his arms around both their shoulders. "Alright, alright, peace, children. Wolves and vamps, holding hands, singing songs—no more passive-aggressive jabs, please."
Signos didn't resist the weight. Percy, of course, did.
"Ugh—get off! And how can you say that? We don't get along with other vampires, and they don't get along with other werewolves!"
Miro only grinned wider. "Exactly. All the more reason we freaks need to stick together."
***
That night, Matilda burst into the room, Nyra and Silas close behind her—late again, with Matilda in her dorm monitor role, not dragging the waywards in this time.
She caught Signos's arm, pulling him aside while Nyra and Silas made a beeline for Miro.
"Did you see Reina before class?" Nyra asked, her voice too tight, eyes scanning the room like Reina might materialize from thin air. Silas, quieter but no less anxious, echoed her concern.
Miro's shoulders were stiff as he tried to calm them down, his voice low, his expression grim. When he looked over at Signos, their eyes met. Miro gave a single nod.
Signos frowned.
He turned back to Matilda—and that's when he noticed the gleam in her eyes.
Golden.
They were glowing.
"It's like you said," she murmured. "It's inevitable."
The glow slowly faded.
Signos's voice was low. "What did you see?"
Matilda smiled—sharp and unreadable. "The plan working."
His frown deepened. "What's going to happen now?"
She tilted her head, still smiling. "Now?" A pause. "We wait."