Chapter 255: Your Maker

"Good thing you still have your good intuition."Dera froze mid-step. The words slid across the street like a memory brought to life. Her breath caught, and slowly, she turned.

And there he was.

Ken.

The boy from her dreams. The boy who had once held her hand under the full moon, who had kissed her by the edge of the forest, who had turned his back on her after she killed his friend. His hair was darker now, cropped shorter, but those eyes—those warm brown eyes—looked at her with a weight she had never seen before. They weren’t just soft anymore. They radiated something heavier, something primal, an aura that pressed against her chest and made the air tighten.

Her lips parted before she could stop herself. The words slipped out on instinct.

"You’re... an Alpha now."

Ken’s gaze softened, just a little, at her recognition. His jaw tensed, then he gave a faint nod. "Yeah. You’re right."

Dera’s throat went dry. She should have laughed, should have pushed it away as another dream bleeding into her waking life—but her body knew. The way the air shifted around him, the way her pulse reacted without permission, told her it wasn’t a dream. It was real.

Ken glanced around, his eyes sharp, scanning the crowd of people moving past them under the neon lights. He leaned closer, voice low. "We can’t stay here. Too many eyes. If I’m seen, I’ll be found out."

Before she could ask what he meant, his hand closed around her wrist.

And then the world blurred.

The ground vanished under her feet, air rushed past her ears like a scream, neon lights stretched into lines, and the next thing she knew, her back hit cold brick. She staggered, catching herself against the wall, her bag slipping off her shoulder.

They were in a dark alley. Empty. Quiet. The hum of the city was muffled here, shadows swallowing the glow.

Dera’s chest heaved. "What the hell—"

Ken didn’t let her finish. His eyes locked on hers, burning with intensity. "It’s a surprise he recreated you. I thought he would wipe all of the old humans out, start fresh. But you’re still here."

She stared at him, the words twisting in her mind like a knife. "Recreated... me?"

Ken nodded once, slow, his expression grave. "Of all the humans who lived in the Old Earth, almost none made it through. When the Progenitors pulled their chosen to other realms, your kind... your people... were left behind. Most died when the world collapsed. But you—" He stepped closer, his aura pressing against her. "You managed to return. Somehow, you survived the end."

Her knees felt weak. She backed against the wall, her voice shaking. "You’re saying the dreams—"

"They’re not dreams," Ken cut in, firm. "They’re memories. Your memories."

The alley spun for a second. Dera’s breath came fast, shallow. Her hands trembled at her sides.

"I..." She shook her head. "That doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense."

Ken’s gaze didn’t waver. "It will. Listen. The world you knew, the life you lived—it was real. The supernaturals, your father, the hunters, me. Lucifer." He paused, his jaw tightening on the name. "Everything. It happened. And now it’s happening again, here. A new war. And this time, New Earth will be the center of it."

Dera pressed her palms to her temples, trying to force air into her lungs. "You’re insane. I’m insane. This is... this is a hallucination."

"You know it isn’t." His voice softened, but it carried a steady weight. "You feel it, don’t you? The way your body moves like it remembers. The way your instincts scream at shadows. Hunters don’t forget what they are, Dera. Not even when the world ends."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Because he was right.

The knife. The reflexes. The strength she shouldn’t have.

Her voice cracked. "Why me? Why am I the one who... survived?"

Ken’s eyes darkened. "That’s what we don’t know. Maybe it was chance. Maybe it was fate. But what matters is this: you carry something the others don’t. If Adam falls, if the humans of this world collapse with him like they did before when he destroyed it, you may be the only key to stopping it."

The name tore through her. Adam. She didn’t know why, but the moment she heard it, her stomach twisted.

"Adam..." she whispered. "Who—what is he?"

Ken’s jaw clenched, his aura spiking like a growl rumbling under his skin. "Adam is your Progenitor. The one who bound humanity to his life. The axis holding your race together. If he dies, the humans die with him. That’s how it should be."

Her throat tightened. "And you’re telling me he’s going to die?"

Ken looked away for a moment, his shoulders tense. "He’s chosen the adversaries. Stands with them now. If he isn’t stopped, then yes. He will die—and he’ll drag you all down with him."

The words gutted her.

She staggered forward, pushing past him a step, her voice breaking. "No. No, that’s not possible. If that were true... if all of that really happened... why don’t I remember everything? Why can’t I remember how it ended?"

Ken’s gaze followed her, heavy. "Because remembering the end would break you before the beginning even starts. The mind protects itself. But the truth doesn’t care. The war’s coming whether you remember or not."

Silence filled the alley. Dera leaned against the wall, her fists trembling.

Her voice came quiet. "And you were sent to get me."

"Yes." Ken stepped closer, his aura easing, the intensity softening just enough. "You’re going to play a role in this, Dera. A big one. The Progenitors are stirring, the adversaries are rising, and in the middle of it all... is you. The last hunter. The only one left from Old Earth."

The words fell like a verdict.

Her chest tightened. The air felt too thin. She laughed, but it was sharp, hollow. "You think I can save anyone? I couldn’t even save Ken’s friend. I couldn’t save us."

His eyes softened, a flicker of something human breaking through the Alpha’s aura. "You saved the world that night. You made the call no one else could. I hated you for it. I walked away. But I know the truth now."

Her eyes burned. "Ken..."

He reached out, his hand brushing her arm, grounding her. "You’re not here by accident, Dera. You’re here because we need you. Again. The Progenitors can’t fight this war alone. They need someone who knows what it means to fight monsters as a human. To hunt in the dark without immortality or flame or illusion. They need a hunter."

Her breath hitched.

The word cut deep. Hunter.

She had tried to bury it. Tried to believe she was just a girl in New Earth with strange dreams. But her hands still remembered how to hold a blade. Her eyes still scanned shadows. Her body still moved like it had trained for war.

And now Ken stood before her, Alpha aura pressing against the walls, telling her she was the last of her kind.

Telling her she mattered.

The night felt heavier than it had moments ago. The neon lights hummed faint beyond the alley, the city still perfect and oblivious. But here, in the dark, Dera knew the truth.

Her dreams were real. Her world had ended.

And the war was coming again.

Ken pulled back slightly, giving her space. His voice was steady now, calm but firm. "You’ll have questions. A thousand of them. But right now, all you need to know is this: you survived for a reason. And if you stand with us again, maybe—just maybe—your people will survive too."

Dera swallowed hard, her fists clenching. The air burned in her lungs.

She looked up at him, her voice low, breaking but steady.

"Then tell me what I have to do."

Ken’s eyes didn’t waver. They burned with the same fierce intensity she remembered from another life, but heavier now—like all the years and all the scars had finally made their home in him.

"First," he said quietly, every word deliberate, "we get you a weapon."

Dera blinked. The word landed harder than it should have. A weapon. Her chest tightened. She’d thrown fists in gyms, she’d thrown knives in dreams—but to hear him say it, to hear it put in stone like that, brought back the sharp edge of nights she’d tried to convince herself weren’t real.

Her voice came low. "A weapon?"

Ken nodded once. "A hunter without her blade isn’t a hunter. And you... you’re going to need more than bare hands when this begins."

Her throat tightened. She hated the way her pulse raced, hated how part of her body leaned forward as though it already knew what he meant.

She whispered, "And after that?"

Ken’s jaw hardened. For a moment, his brown eyes flickered, not soft, not human—Alpha. When he spoke, it came out like a verdict.

"Then you hunt the man who had your father and your family killed." His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "Adam. Your maker."