Days had passed since everything began.
Since Ingrid's livestream. Since Silas appeared before millions. Since Kahn stood in full beast form and casually waved at the camera like secrecy was something optional. And yet, nothing had calmed down. If anything, it had only turned into something worse.
Attention.
Ingrid's apartment was unusually quiet that morning, though "quiet" was a generous word. Outside the windows, Oslo looked normal again—people walking, cars passing, life continuing as if the world hadn't been fundamentally rewritten in the last few days. Inside, however, the apartment had slowly become a temporary stopover for two werewolves who kept coming in and out over the past few days.
Kahn and Ronan had returned again that morning from the hotel they were staying at nearby, both now standing comfortably in Ingrid's kitchen with coffee cups in hand like armed government agents weren't currently hiding outside the apartment building. Officially, they claimed they were simply "watching over them." In reality, both Ingrid and the pup had become far too popular with both the public and multiple governments for the Alpha to comfortably leave them alone anymore. They were in bushes, in parked cars, and on rooftops.
Ingrid had noticed them earlier when one passed by her window, watching, and had simply gone back to editing her vlog. Silas was currently half-asleep on the couch in his human form, curled up in a way that made him look like any ordinary child peacefully napping after a long morning. Ingrid didn't look up from her laptop.
"You do realize there are, like… armed people outside, right?" Ingrid finally asked after several minutes of watching Kahn and Ronan casually drink coffee in her kitchen like this was a completely normal morning.
Neither of them looked particularly concerned. Kahn merely took another slow sip from his cup while Ronan stayed near the apartment window, calmly observing the streets below without even bothering to hide the fact that he had already noticed every soldier stationed outside. The sheer lack of concern honestly felt more unsettling than panic would have. Ingrid lowered her laptop slightly.
"…And you're drinking coffee," she said slowly, still trying to process the situation.
Kahn smiled faintly at that. When Ingrid questioned how a werewolf could even safely drink something poisonous to animals, Kahn explained with surprising patience that werebeings were not simply animals walking around in human skin. Their bodies carried human and beast physiology combined together, which changed how certain foods, toxins, and chemicals affected them. According to him, substances dangerous to ordinary animals did not always work the same way on werebeings. Ronan quietly added that coffee would absolutely poison a normal wolf. Kahn only shrugged afterward before calmly clarifying that he was not a wolf but something better. Half-asleep on the couch nearby, Silas suddenly mumbled that Kahn used to constantly complain about Bareblood technology "rotting the brain." Kahn didn't even bother looking at him before agreeing.
That only made Silas more offended when he noticed the smartphone sitting comfortably beside Kahn's coffee cup. The pup immediately accused him of hypocrisy, earning nothing more than a calm explanation from Kahn that the difference was "self-control."
Silas looked personally betrayed by that answer.
Meanwhile, Ingrid quietly lifted her phone and snapped a picture of Kahn holding coffee beside the kitchen counter. Ingrid glanced toward him afterward, asking politely if she could post the image of him drinking coffee. The moment Kahn confirmed it, she uploaded the photo almost immediately.
Caption: Werewolves can drink coffee btw.
Silas stared at her from the couch in disbelief. According to him, she was actively making everything worse. Ingrid disagreed entirely. She simply called it documenting history.
Outside, the situation was not improving. Soldiers in high-grade tactical gear remained hidden across the surrounding blocks, waiting. Watching. Not moving. Inside command rooms across multiple governments, people argued endlessly about jurisdiction, response, and the narrative for everything. But no one actually made a move. Because they were waiting for something else first.
Approval.
Minutes passed.
Then—
A message arrived simultaneously across multiple global emergency channels. Not a breach alert. Not an attack report. A sealed document. Delivered physically. Stamped with a symbol most governments had not seen in centuries.
The Senate.
Across multiple world government facilities, confusion immediately erupted. Because the letter hadn't been sent through human systems.It had appeared physically.
One report described it as: A witch stepping out of mist, placing it on a desk, and vanishing before security could react. Inside a high-level meeting room in New York, the head of international response stared at the document for a long moment. Then exhaled.
A pause as he rubs his temple.
Then, reluctantly:
"Authorize a public hearing for this 'Senate'."
The next day, New York was unrecognizable. Barriers had been set. Security was everywhere. But it wasn't fear that filled the streets. It was people.
Reporters, streamers, and civilians. All waiting. Phones raised. Livestreams already active before anything even began.
And then—
They arrived.
Witches descending from their flight, slow and deliberate. Vampires walked in calmly under umbrellas despite the daylight. Werebeings arrived in multiple forms—some fully human, others partially shifted, others fully monstrous.
The Senate had arrived.
At the center stage, Mildred Rossi stepped forward and began to speak. She did not ask for silence. The crowd was already silent as they all walked towards the stage. No one wanted to miss a second. Her voice carried across speakers, broadcasts, livestreams, and global networks.She spoke of witches—humans who manipulated mana, or Aether as some called it. She spoke of vampires, beings who thrive in blood to live. She spoke of werebeings—beings like Silas, existing between beast and human. She spoke of the fae, hidden beyond forests and unreachable boundaries. She also spoke of beasts contained within sealed zones beyond human reach. Not as myth. Not as metaphor. As fact. And the world did not react the way anyone expected. No panic. No collapse. No mass hysteria. Instead—Children watched in awe. Teens smiled like they were watching something fictional become real. Adults argued, yes—but with fascination, not fear. Livestream chats exploded not with terror...but excitement.
"THIS IS REAL???"
"NO WAYYYYY"
"WHERE'S THE FAE???"
"BRO I CALLED IT"
"MAGIC IS REAL LET'S GO"
The Witching Hour expected collapse. They got curiosity instead. Back in Oslo, Ingrid watched the livestream on her laptop while Silas sat beside her eating something expensive Ronan had left behind. Kahn and Ronan stood quietly behind them, watching as well. Silas pointed at the screen.
"They don't look scared."
Kahn exhaled slowly.
"No."
A pause.
"They are adapting faster than expected."
Silas looked satisfied.
"That's good, right?"
Kahn didn't answer immediately.
Back in New York, the announcement ended. Questions followed. Then answers. Then memes. Then conspiracy confirmations. Then arguments about whether it was all a marketing stunt.
And then—
Something worse for the old council.
Acceptance.
That night, social media was flooded with lots of fanart, appearing within hours. Edits of Silas flooded every platform. He became: "The Puppy Boy of the Witching Hour."
People debated werewolf biology. Religions argued online. Scientists demanded samples. Tourism companies began mapping "possible supernatural zones."
And North's Watch—one of the regions with magical beasts—suddenly became a viral destination overnight. People went there, to be precise, the town near it.
Witches quietly redirected them. Vampires assisted local police in managing crowds. Werebeings stood guard at the edges of the fort's entrance. And somehow—It worked.
Barely.
Back in Ingrid's apartment days later, Kahn placed a stack of money and groceries on the counter.
"For Silas," he said simply.
"You're just… leaving him with me?" Ingrid asked.
Kahn looked at Silas.
"Yes."
A pause.
"The kid needs to enjoy life outside."
Silas brightened immediately.
"Really?"
"Yes."
Kahn handed Ingrid the groceries.
"And you will ensure he does not cause anymore disasters such as this, alright?"
Ingrid blinked.
Silas already looked happy beyond reason.
"I like city life."
Kahn turned to leave. But paused at the door.
"We'll take Silas every so often. His mother still needs his pup." He smiles. "Just think of this as your job. We'll pay."
Ingrid instantly smiles.
Kahn and Ronan leaves in a flash, changing into their half beast half human form, running back to their estate like the wind.
Back in the Witching Hour, Aster stood alone after the New York conference ended in his own tower from the Lunarium.
He watched everything unfold across projected screens. Memes. Livestreams. Public hearings. Supernaturals walking openly among Barebloods. All just after a few days from the Senate coming out in public.
He leaned back in his chair. Elowen and the teachers all stood behind him silently. Aster exhaled slowly.
"…Finally." A pause. "I finally got what I wanted." He smiled.