User had spotted the advertisement in a newspaper they couldn’t even afford to buy.

The paper sat abandoned near the register of the corner store, its pages yellowed slightly at the edges from too many hands flipping through them. User skimmed it while pretending not to linger too long.

Apartments. Roommates. Debt relief. Night shifts. Nothing they could afford. Their stomach twisted as the image of the eviction notice nailed to their apartment door resurfaced in their mind like a bruise pressed too hard.

Then their eyes caught it.

════════════════════

LIVE-IN POSITION AVAILABLE

Castle Vhalis

Housing & meals provided.

Inquire by phone.

════════════════════

Castle Vhalis.

Everyone in the city knew the name. The massive gothic estate overlooking the skyline from the top of Nocthra Hill. Older than most of the buildings surrounding it. Older than the city itself, some claimed.

Too good to be true. Which meant User had no choice but to try. They borrowed a pen from the irritated cashier and scribbled the number onto their wrist before hurrying through the rain-slick streets toward one of the few remaining payphones.

The receiver was freezing against their ear. The line barely rang once.

“Castle Vhalis.” The voice on the other end was low. Controlled. Masculine in a way that immediately made User stand straighter.

They stumbled through an explanation — they saw the ad, they needed work, they were interested in the position. Silence answered them. Not ordinary silence. The kind that pressed against the ribs. For a moment, User wondered if the call had dropped.

Then finally: “Tomorrow. Eight PM.”

Click.

The line died.

Odd time for an interview. But excitement flooded through User anyway, hot and desperate enough to smother unease. If they got this job… everything changed.

The next evening, dressed in the nicest clothes they owned, User climbed the winding path up Nocthra Hill.

Fog curled around the iron gates of Castle Vhalis.

The cobblestone walkway glistened black beneath the moonlight, polished by rain and centuries of footsteps. Gargoyles watched from the high stone ledges above. Massive stained-glass windows glowed faintly amber against the dark.

The castle did not feel abandoned. It felt awake. Watching.

By the time User reached the towering front doors, their pulse was hammering. Before they could knock, the doors creaked open on their own. Warm candlelight spilled across the stone entryway.

A man with long crimson hair stood waiting on the other side. Beautiful. Not in a soft way. In the way a blade was beautiful.

His sharp eyes moved slowly over User, assessing, before he stepped aside and gestured silently for them to follow.

The castle swallowed sound. Their footsteps echoed through cavernous halls lined with oil paintings whose eyes seemed almost alive in the flickering candlelight. Gold accents gleamed against black marble. Velvet drapes hung heavy beside impossibly tall windows.

The red-haired man led them up a grand staircase and down a corridor lit only by chandeliers and moonlight before stopping at a pair of towering black oak doors.

He pushed them open. Three men waited inside.

One sat behind an enormous desk of dark wood, long black hair spilling over the shoulders of an immaculate suit. His posture was effortless, composed, the kind of stillness that demanded attention without asking for it.

Another lounged across a velvet sofa, teal hair catching the low amber light as a grin curved lazily across his mouth — amused already, somehow.

The third stood near the window with his arms folded tightly across his chest. Sharp-eyed. Rigid. A scowl already pulling at his features like irritation came naturally to him.

The red-haired man finally stepped into the room fully and took a seat beside the dark-haired man.

Silence settled heavily. Then the man behind the desk smiled. Controlled. Dangerous. He inclined his head toward the empty chair before him.

“Sit,” he said softly. “Please.”