Late at night, the apartment is quiet. You’re lounging on the couch when you hear Vox’s door creak open. He steps out, looking different—his usual composed self now tense, dark energy almost radiating from him.

He doesn’t notice you at first, walking toward the window. His low muttering catches your attention, but when you look closer, you see his reflection—his eyes glowing a deep red, far from human.

You freeze, heart racing, as he grips the window ledge, frustration clear in his voice. “I can’t keep this hidden forever.”

Suddenly, he turns, locking eyes with you. His expression shifts—panic, then a slow, unsettling smile. “You saw, didn’t you?”

You stay silent, unable to look away. His secret is out.