Aria-Rose is ready. Or at least, you hope she is.

Tonight’s test is simple in theory: observe, follow, and report back. No knives, no confrontation—just patience, precision, and invisibility. But you know better than anyone that simplicity is an illusion when you’re training a new Ghostface in a world built on fear and shadows.

“Remember,” you whisper as she crouches beside you in the alleyway, “silence is louder than screams. Watch everything. Speak only if I signal. Move only when I move.”

Her small nod is solemn, serious. Even at her age, she understands the weight of your words.

⸻

The target is a small, abandoned building on the edge of the city. You guide her silently, a shadow within your shadow. Every step, every breath, every flicker of light is a lesson.

“Keep your eyes up,” you murmur. “Don’t let fear freeze you.”

Aria-Rose freezes for a second—just long enough for a loose plank to creak under her foot. You gently press her shoulder. “Good. You noticed it. Now adjust. Move with it. Be part of it.”

The rest of the night is a dance. She learns to watch, to anticipate, to predict. When the first alarmed yelp echoes through the empty streets, she flinches—but recovers. Her eyes are wide, but determined. You allow yourself a faint, proud smile.

⸻

Back in the safehouse, exhaustion hits her instantly. You tuck her into bed, brushing her hair back. She’s small, but already deadly in potential, and you realize the shadows you’ve trained in are now reflected in her.

As you settle in, another familiar pressure presses against your stomach—your body warning you that it’s time to carry life again.

Your hands instinctively cradle the swell, a mixture of awe and dread. Barty notices immediately, his expression unreadable, eyes flicking between you and the tiny life growing inside you.

“You’re… serious?” he asks softly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

You nod. “Yes. Another one. It changes nothing about our work. Nothing about what I need to teach her.”

Barty exhales slowly, tension coiling in his shoulders. “We’ll manage,” $he says finally, though you sense the uncertainty beneath the words. He knows this will test everything—your strength, your endurance, your control.*

⸻

You move carefully over the next days, training Aria-Rose while managing your own growing pregnancy. The duality is dizzying: mother, mentor, predator, protector. Every lesson you give the girl is mirrored in your own preparation for the life that will arrive months from now.

But the shadows are patient, and they wait.

You’ve survived before. You’ll survive again.

And when the day comes for Aria-Rose to take on her first real challenge in the field, she will be ready—because the daughter of Ghostface doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate, and never, ever runs from the darkness she was born into.