The Divergence

Gideon slammed the file onto his desk, sending several loose documents sliding across its polished surface. 

His teeth were clenched, and the expression on his face had long since passed ordinary irritation. 

Across from him stood three men, all of whom had become increasingly reluctant to meet his eyes as the evening progressed.

”Find Helena Strauss,” Gideon demanded, stabbing a finger toward the file. ”I don’t care where she’s gone, who she’s contacted, or what she’s calling herself now. I want her found as quickly as possible!”

One of the men nodded hurriedly and turned toward the door, almost colliding with another official who was entering the office. 

The newcomer stepped aside to let him pass, then approached the desk with an expression that suggested he would rather have been anywhere else.

”Mr. Vice President, there’s been another development concerning Ethan Vale.”

Gideon looked up sharply. ”What now?”

”The vampire responsible for his death refused to cooperate with the local authorities in Oakridge. Officers attempted to take her into custody, but the situation escalated when military personnel arrived to reinforce the police department.” 

The man hesitated, glancing toward the others before continuing. ”One of the officers commanding the soldiers was killed by another vampire. The remaining personnel withdrew without making an arrest.”

For several seconds, Gideon simply stared at him. 

Then he lowered his gaze toward the file on his desk, his expression darkening as he considered the rapidly deteriorating situation. 

The precarious balance Leland had spent weeks attempting to establish had collapsed almost overnight, and Gideon was finding it increasingly difficult to determine which problem demanded his attention first.

The Institute’s confidential records had been released, revealing experiments that were never supposed to become public knowledge. 

The disappearance of Helena Strauss had only complicated matters, particularly when the preliminary investigation suggested that someone with considerable internal access had been responsible for distributing the information. 

Meanwhile, the supernatural species were becoming less cooperative, and reports of vampires gathering in considerable numbers had begun appearing throughout the Unified Sovereignties.

Gideon found the entire situation infuriating.

The Institute had existed to improve humanity’s understanding of the new species. 

Its research could have produced extraordinary discoveries, perhaps even methods of reproducing supernatural abilities through technology or medicine. 

The individuals subjected to testing should have understood the importance of their contributions. 

They should have been proud, honored even, to participate in research that might benefit billions of human beings.

Instead, they had apparently decided that their personal comfort mattered more than the advancement of humanity.

Gideon leaned back in his chair and exhaled through his nose.

On the television mounted against the opposite wall, a reporter was discussing the latest sightings of vampires. 

Behind her, footage showed several crimson-eyed women standing outside a convenience store, apparently conversing with one another while curious residents watched from a distance.

”Authorities in a small town have reported at least sixteen separate vampire sightings over the past several hours,” the reporter explained. 

”Although there have been no confirmed incidents of violence associated with these particular sightings, local officials are urging residents to remain cautious and avoid provoking unfamiliar supernatural individuals.”

The footage changed, showing another group of vampires flying over a residential neighborhood.

”Similar reports have emerged from numerous communities, raising questions about whether vampires are deliberately gathering in larger groups. Some observers believe these movements may be connected to the extraordinary concentration of vampires recently reported in Oakridge.”

Gideon clicked his tongue.

The reporter continued, transitioning toward a photograph of a woman with blue hair and completely black eyes.

”Meanwhile, the appearance of witches and elves has introduced additional uncertainty. Unlike vampires and werewolves, whose physical abilities have become comparatively well documented, relatively little is known about the newest supernatural species.”

The image changed again, this time displaying a slender, pointed-eared elf.

”According to documents included in the recent Institute leak, both species possess abilities that researchers have struggled to explain using conventional scientific models. In other words, ladies and gentlemen, it appears that magic may no longer be confined to fairy tales.”

The reporter offered a faint smile at her own remark before continuing with the available information.

One of the men standing near Gideon’s desk frowned at the image of the witch.

”Look at those eyes,” he muttered. ”Completely black. Not even a trace of anything human.”

Another man glanced toward the screen. ”What’s your point?”

”My point is that this isn’t their world. It never was.” He folded his arms, his expression hardening. ”Things like that shouldn’t exist here. Monsters don’t belong among people.”

The second man nodded, although his attention had returned to the report concerning Oakridge.

”One vampire killed an officer right in front of armed soldiers, and they didn’t even dare engage her. How is that supposed to be fair? What kind of society allows creatures like that to kill people without fearing punishment?”

Gideon struck the desk with his palm.

”Humanity will win in the end.”

The men turned toward him.

Gideon stood, his expression filled with contempt.

”We began with nothing. No claws, no supernatural strength, no magic. Yet we became the dominant species on this planet through intelligence, cooperation, and the willingness to do whatever was necessary to survive.”

He gestured toward the television.

”Vampires, werewolves, witches, elves. They’re the problem, not us. They appeared without warning, disrupted our civilization, and now expect us to accept them as equals simply because they’re powerful.”

One of the men gave a low whistle as the broadcast displayed another photograph of an elf.

”Well, I wouldn’t mind keeping a few of those around after everything settles down.”

The others glanced toward him.

He smiled unpleasantly.

”Look at them. They’re incredibly beautiful. Once we’ve dealt with the monsters, perhaps we could keep a few as trophies.”

Gideon scoffed.

”I don’t care what anyone does with nonhumans once they’re under control. Just keep it out of my sight.”

The conversation might have continued, but the office doors suddenly opened.

President Leland entered, accompanied by several armed security personnel.

The atmosphere changed immediately. Gideon’s expression tightened, although he made no attempt to rise in greeting. 

The men standing near his desk straightened, their earlier confidence diminishing as the President approached.

Leland looked around the office, taking in the television, the scattered documents, and the men gathered around the Vice President. Then his gaze settled upon Gideon.

”What have you done?”

His voice was cold.

Gideon leaned back in his chair.

”What you didn’t have the courage to do.”

Leland regarded him for several seconds, his expression becoming increasingly difficult to read.

He had known Gideon for years. 

They had disagreed on numerous matters, sometimes quite bitterly, but Leland had always believed the man possessed at least a basic understanding of the responsibilities attached to their offices.

Apparently, he had been mistaken.

Leland wasn’t naive enough to believe that coexistence could be established through goodwill alone. 

Nor had he pursued cooperation with the supernatural species purely out of kindness. 

He was human, and more importantly, he was the President of the Unified Sovereignties. 

His responsibility was to protect the people who depended upon his government, which meant considering the value of every available opportunity.

Vampires alone possessed abilities that could transform human medicine. 

Their blood could heal injuries that would otherwise be fatal, cure diseases that had resisted decades of research, and potentially save millions of lives if a reliable system of voluntary cooperation could be established.

A patient who would otherwise die following a severe accident might survive if vampire blood could be administered in time. 

Hospitals could become places where injuries and illnesses once considered hopeless were treated routinely.

And that was merely one possibility.

Witches and elves had only recently appeared, and their abilities remained poorly understood. 

If their cooperation could be secured, the benefits might extend far beyond medicine.

Leland had imagined a future in which humanity and the new species developed systems that benefited everyone involved. 

Decades from now, people might look back upon the present crisis and remember the decisions that had made such cooperation possible.

Perhaps they would remember him.

He wasn’t ashamed of that ambition.

But none of it would matter if the supernatural species concluded that humanity intended to capture, exploit, and eventually destroy them.

And thanks to the fool sitting across from him, that possibility was becoming increasingly likely.

”What possible good did you think this would accomplish?” Leland asked, gesturing toward the file. 

”The Institute has been exposed for detaining and torturing supernatural individuals. Do you understand what that means for this country?”

Gideon’s expression darkened.

”It means someone leaked classified information.”

”It means our government is now associated with experiments conducted upon unwilling subjects!”

”Experiments that could have benefited humanity!”

Leland stared at him.

Gideon continued, his voice growing sharper.

”If you hadn’t insisted upon hiding everything behind committees, negotiations, and endless assurances that we respected these creatures, perhaps we wouldn’t have needed to conduct the research in secret.”

Leland laughed in exasperation.

”You’re blaming me?”

”I’m saying that if you’d shown some courage, things might have turned out differently.”

Leland shook his head.

”How exactly do you intend to fight a war against creatures that are stronger, faster, and in some cases nearly immortal? Creatures that possess the same intelligence we do, along with abilities we barely understand?”

Gideon opened his mouth, but Leland continued before he could answer.

”Our transportation networks are barely functioning. Food shipments have been interrupted throughout the country, and numerous cities are approaching the limits of their remaining reserves. We have people worrying about whether they’ll be able to eat next week, and you’ve decided this is the appropriate moment to provoke a conflict with several supernatural species?”

The room fell quiet.

Leland looked toward the men standing beside the desk.

”Do any of you understand the scale of what you’re proposing? Even if we possessed weapons capable of killing every vampire, werewolf, witch, and elf, how would we sustain a prolonged campaign when we can barely transport food and essential supplies between our own cities?”

Gideon rose from his chair.

”Even if we couldn’t win, we’d show them that humanity isn’t something to be looked down upon!”

Leland stared at him.

For a moment, he seemed genuinely unable to comprehend the answer. Then he exhaled, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

”If everyone had simply made an effort to get along, we might have avoided all of this.”

Gideon snorted.

”The world belongs to humans. It always has. As far as I’m concerned, every nonhuman creature could vanish tomorrow, and we’d be better off.”

One of the men beside him nodded.

”Mr. President, with respect, I hope you’ll remember who you’re supposed to represent. Humanity needs a leader who puts humans first, not someone who keeps catering to creatures that aren’t even part of our species.”

Another stepped forward.

”Look at Oakridge. Vampires can kill people without fearing punishment. Their behavior is extreme, and there’s no reason to believe the other species will be any different. How are ordinary humans supposed to coexist with creatures that can do whatever they want?”

Leland looked between them.

He could understand their fear. 

A vampire’s strength was frightening, particularly when combined with the knowledge that ordinary weapons were often insufficient to stop one. 

The supernatural species possessed advantages humanity had never needed to contend with before.

But fear wasn’t a strategy.

And deliberately turning frightened, powerful beings into enemies was certainly not a solution.

Leland sighed.

”All of you are suspended from your previous duties, effective immediately.”

Gideon’s expression changed.

”What?”

Leland continued without raising his voice.

”Any attempt to exercise authority belonging to your former positions without explicit authorization will be treated as an unlawful act. If you attempt to use government personnel, resources, or military assets to circumvent this order, you will face charges of treason.”

One of the men stepped forward.

”Mr. President, surely—”

”I’ve heard enough.”

Leland turned toward the door. His security personnel moved with him, and within moments, the President had left the office without waiting for further objections.

Gideon remained standing behind his desk.

For several seconds, he watched the closed doors. Then he slowly sat down, his fingers tapping against the polished surface, once, twice, then several times in quick succession.

Finally, he snorted.

”Us against them, then.”

The men around him exchanged uneasy glances.

Gideon looked toward the television, where the reporter had returned to discussing the increasing number of vampires appearing throughout the country.

His expression hardened.

”That’s what it’s always been.”

───

Clementine soared through the clouds, her enormous wings beating rhythmically as she accelerated across the night sky. 

Her long crimson twin ponytails streamed behind her, their black bows fluttering wildly in the wind, while the frilled edges of her Gothic dress shifted with each movement.

She was having a wonderful evening.

Well, mostly wonderful.

There had been a few disappointments, of course, but those were hardly worth dwelling upon when so many interesting things were happening. 

She’d met all sorts of people recently, and although some had been rather unpleasant, others had proven wonderfully entertaining.

And now there were six other Princesses somewhere in the world.

Clementine smiled brightly.

She could feel them through the Blood Sea, their immense presences exerting an attraction that ordinary vampires couldn’t begin to approach. 

Each was different, and although the distances between them were considerable, Clementine had no difficulty distinguishing one from another.

How wonderful it was to have so many people like herself.

She’d been a little lonely before.

Not terribly lonely, of course. There were plenty of vampires around, and she adored them all. 

But the others were different. They possessed the same extraordinary weight within the Blood Sea, the same ability to gather vampires simply by reaching toward them.

They were equals.

Clementine wondered whether they’d like her.

Surely they would.

After all, they were vampires, and vampires were such lovely creatures.

She giggled softly, rolling onto her back as she flew through the clouds. 

Her wings shifted to maintain her altitude, and she stretched her arms above her head, enjoying the cool night air against her pale skin.

The humans she’d encountered earlier had been rather entertaining, too.

Perhaps she’d gone a little too far.

Actually, she probably had.

Clementine considered that possibility with an expression of mild embarrassment, although the smile never quite left her lips.

She’d only intended to play for a while. 

The soldiers had been so insistent about making her cooperate, and their expressions had changed so beautifully when they realized that she wasn’t going to do what they wanted.

Fear was such an interesting emotion.

Humans displayed it so readily, and unlike vampires, they possessed all sorts of wonderful ways to express it. 

Their faces changed, their voices trembled, and their hearts raced so loudly that Clementine could hear them from across a room.

It was difficult not to become curious.

And once she’d started, she’d found it rather hard to stop.

Oh, I really should have been a little nicer.

The thought passed through her mind with an almost apologetic sweetness.

She hadn’t killed everyone, of course.

Some of the humans had simply given up, lying motionless on the ground or curling into themselves while waiting for whatever she intended to do next. 

Clementine had found them rather uninteresting once they stopped responding, so she’d left them alone.

After all, what was the point of playing with someone who didn’t want to play?

The soldiers had been different.

They’d brought weapons, and Clementine had made a point of leaving those weapons scattered across the floor after disarming them. 

She hadn’t hidden them or taken them away, and she certainly hadn’t forced anyone to pick them up.

That would have been terribly unfair.

Yet, just as she’d expected, some of the desperate humans had eventually reached for the firearms.

Clementine giggled at the memory.

They’d looked so hopeful for a moment.

Then they’d realized the weapons weren’t going to save them.

Their expressions had been absolutely wonderful.

Of course, she understood perfectly well why they’d reached for the guns. 

They were frightened, desperate, and hoping to regain some measure of control over a situation they couldn’t understand.

That was precisely why she’d left the weapons where they could reach them.

She wasn’t confused about what she was doing.

She simply found the results delightful.

Clementine rolled lazily through the air, spreading her wings as she emerged above a broad expanse of clouds. 

Moonlight illuminated her pale skin and brilliant red hair, giving her the appearance of a delicate ornament suspended against the darkness.

She stretched her arms again.

”Mmm! What a lovely night!”

The wind rushed past her pointed ears.

Far below, the lights of distant settlements glimmered against the landscape. 

Clementine paid them little attention. She was far more interested in the extraordinary presences moving through the Blood Sea.

One of them was approaching.

Or perhaps she was approaching it.

Distances were rather difficult to judge through their shared awareness, particularly when the immense Royal presences seemed to exert an attraction that had very little to do with physical proximity.

Clementine tilted her head.

This one felt wonderful.

Warm, confident, and overflowing with affection.

There was something almost clingy about the way its presence reached toward the vampires surrounding it, although Clementine didn’t find that unpleasant.

Quite the opposite.

She smiled.

What a lovely person she must be.

Someone who seemed so full of affection would surely be wonderful company, and Clementine was becoming increasingly curious about the woman responsible for that extraordinary presence.

Her nose twitched.

Then she turned sharply, folding one wing while extending the other.

Her body rolled through the air.

She spotted several figures flying together far below, their enormous wings carrying them through the night in a loose formation.

At the center was a vampire with long pastel-pink hair.

Clementine’s eyes widened.

There she was.

She folded her wings.

And dove.

The clouds parted around her as she accelerated, descending thousands of feet in mere seconds. 

Wind screamed past her ears, and her long twin ponytails streamed almost vertically behind her as she aimed directly toward the pink-haired vampire.

Clementine smiled brightly.

This was going to be such a lovely introduction.

She collided with her.

The impact sent both vampires tumbling through the air, their wings momentarily tangling as the surrounding women cried out in surprise.

”Princess!”

”Watch out!”

”Someone hit her!”

The pink-haired vampire, however, reacted rather differently.

Two slender arms wrapped around Clementine almost immediately, catching her securely as the pair spun through the night sky.

”Oh!”

A delighted laugh escaped Seraphina’s lips.

”Well, aren’t you adorable?”

Clementine blinked.

She found herself pressed against the other vampire’s chest, her face surrounded by the lovely scent of a woman who seemed entirely unconcerned about having been struck by another Royal Vampire at extraordinary speed.

Seraphina’s long pink hair streamed around them as she arched backward through the air. 

Her wings spread just enough to slow their descent, and she allowed herself to drift for several moments before correcting their flight.

The vampires accompanying her hovered nearby, their expressions ranging from alarm to bewilderment.

Seraphina merely smiled.

”Such an enthusiastic introduction,” she murmured, looking down at the crimson-haired vampire in her arms. ”I suppose I should be flattered.”

Clementine stared up at her.

For an instant, the sensation passing between them was almost overwhelming.

Another Royal Vampire.

The Blood Sea seemed to recognize their proximity, the immense presences touching without either yielding to the other.

Clementine could feel the extraordinary weight of the woman holding her, and beneath that power was an affection so abundant that it seemed almost impossible to contain.

She was wonderful.

So pretty, so warm, and so affectionate.

Clementine could hardly imagine a more delightful person to encounter.

Seraphina tilted her head, studying Clementine’s expression with obvious amusement.

”My, my. Those eyes are positively sparkling.”

She tightened her embrace slightly.

”Are you always this eager to meet beautiful women?”

Clementine placed both hands against Seraphina’s shoulders and pushed.

”Too close!”

Seraphina laughed.

Clementine pouted, her cheeks puffing slightly as she continued trying to free herself.

”You shouldn’t hug someone so suddenly! I’ll get shy!”

”Will you?”

”Very shy!”

”How unfortunate. And here I was thinking you came all this way because you wanted to meet me.”

Clementine blinked.

Then she smiled sweetly.

”Of course I did, friend!”

Seraphina’s expression brightened.

”Then I suppose we’re both fortunate.”

She loosened her embrace, allowing Clementine to drift backward until they were hovering face-to-face.

The other vampires gradually relaxed, although several continued looking between the two Princesses with unmistakable curiosity.

Seraphina examined Clementine openly.

Her crimson hair was magnificent, styled into long twin ponytails adorned with black bows. 

Her pale face possessed the delicate beauty shared by their species, although the mischievous expression in her eyes gave her an almost doll-like charm.

And beneath that sweetness was something considerably more complicated.

Seraphina could feel it.

The delight, the calculation, and the peculiar way Clementine’s emotions seemed to dance between genuine amusement and deliberate performance, never quite becoming as uncontrolled as her outward behavior suggested.

How interesting.

Seraphina smiled.

”I’m Seraphina.”

Clementine clasped her hands together.

”Oh! What a lovely name!”

”Thank you.”

”I’m Clementine!”

Seraphina’s smile deepened.

”Clementine. How fitting.”

The red-haired Princess giggled.

”Do you think so?”

”Very much. You’re positively sweet.”

Clementine looked delighted.

Seraphina turned lazily in the air, allowing her wings to carry her forward once more. 

Her companions resumed their formation around her, although several continued stealing curious glances at Clementine.

The red-haired Princess immediately fell into place beside her.

Seraphina glanced toward her through her thick eyelashes.

”Although I must say, being quite so destructive doesn’t seem like a particularly fitting habit for someone as pretty as you.”

Clementine tilted her head.

”Hmm?”

Seraphina’s smile remained warm.

”Your feelings were rather lively earlier. I could sense them through the Blood Sea, and I couldn’t help wondering what had made you so excited.”

Clementine giggled.

”Oh, that?”

”That.”

”I was just playing a little.”

Seraphina regarded her with amused interest.

”A little?”

”Mhm!”

Clementine nodded enthusiastically.

”Some of my friends were being very silly, and then everyone became terribly excited. It was all rather noisy.”

She paused, tapping one finger against her lips.

”Perhaps I got a little carried away.”

Seraphina laughed softly.

”Perhaps.”

Clementine looked toward her, smiling with such sweetness that her expression might have seemed entirely innocent to anyone unfamiliar with her.

”But I won’t cause any trouble for you, friend!”

”How reassuring.”

”I promise!”

Seraphina’s eyes gleamed.

She didn’t mistake the promise for an assurance that Clementine would behave according to anyone else’s expectations. 

The red-haired Princess was clearly accustomed to making her own entertainment, and the delight she took in provoking reactions was hardly concealed.

But Seraphina also recognized something else.

Clementine wasn’t confused.

She wasn’t incapable of understanding consequences.

Quite the opposite.

There was an unmistakable awareness beneath her playful manner, a deliberate intelligence that made her apparent innocence considerably more interesting.

Seraphina found herself rather charmed.

Clementine stretched her arms outward as they flew.

”Anyway, I think I’ll accompany you!”

Seraphina raised an eyebrow.

”Oh?”

”Mhm! That way, you won’t be lonely!”

One of the vampires flying nearby laughed quietly.

Seraphina glanced toward Clementine.

”How thoughtful of you.”

Clementine beamed.

It was a wonderful idea, really. They could travel together, meet the other Princesses, and perhaps everyone would become friends. 

Seven Princesses gathered in one place sounded positively delightful, especially when they were all such extraordinary vampires.

Of course, Clementine wondered what the others would be like.

Would they be friendly?

Would they be serious?

Would they want to play?

She hoped they wouldn’t be terribly boring.

Seraphina hummed thoughtfully, studying the smaller vampire beside her.

She could already imagine the sort of trouble Clementine might cause upon meeting the others. 

A Princess who delighted in provoking reactions, who concealed careful thought beneath childish behavior, and whose emotions could become extraordinarily excited over circumstances Seraphina didn’t yet understand.

That could become troublesome.

It could also become extraordinarily interesting.

Seraphina inclined her head, allowing her long pink hair to shift across one shoulder.

”Well, Clementine, I’d be delighted to have your company.”

Clementine’s eyes brightened.

”Really?”

”Of course.”

Seraphina smiled warmly.

”How could I possibly refuse such a beautiful companion?”

Clementine giggled.

”Oh, friend, you’re going to make me blush!”

”Then perhaps I should continue.”

”You’re so mean!”

”Am I?”

”Mhm!”

Seraphina laughed, the sound carrying pleasantly through the night.

Clementine joined her, their voices mingling as they continued flying toward the distant presence of another Royal Vampire.

Around them, Seraphina’s companions gradually resumed their conversations, although several were clearly fascinated by the unexpected arrival.

The two Princesses flew side by side, their immense presences moving together through the Blood Sea.

Neither seemed particularly concerned about what might happen when they reached their destination.

Seraphina was looking forward to meeting the other Princesses, and Clementine was looking forward to making new friends.

For entirely different reasons, both found the prospect absolutely delightful.