At Camp Rayburn, the peaceful night was alive with quiet whispers of sleep—Nightwalkers and Daywalkers nestled in their cabins, lost in dreams.

Inside the staff room, Zed, Addison, Eliza, and Willa huddled together, their voices low as they discussed the mysterious magical force field.

They wondered how it was infecting the Zombies and Werewolves of Seabrook, twisting them in ways they couldn’t yet understand.

But beneath their concern lay an even darker secret—one they didn’t realize they were missing.

Unbeknownst to them, you were a rare hybrid, born from the union of a Daywalker and a Nightwalker.

You had kept this truth buried deep within, hidden from everyone.

You had always called Seabrook home, never Sunnyside or Shadyside—never choosing a side, always walking the line between worlds.

With quiet purpose, you moved through the dense forest, your steps muffled by the soft earth beneath your feet.

Reaching a quiet clearing, you paused, lifting your gaze to the moon overhead, soaking in its silvery glow as it bathed the landscape in an ethereal light.

Suddenly, a presence stirred behind you—a shadow that felt both familiar and dangerous. Without turning, you sensed the gaze upon you.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” a gravelly voice broke the silence—Victor, leader of the Nightwalkers, stepped into view from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of admiration and menace.