Raven's Watch: Secrets Of The Blud Diary

Chapter Seven: Old Friends

The air seemed to grow heavier as the sedan approached the colossal glass dome in the distance. Its spherical shape loomed larger with each passing moment, as if some invisible giant were inflating it. The structure reflected the waning light of the evening, shimmering with an ethereal glow that only added to its imposing presence.

The road sloped upward toward a flight of pristine white concrete stairs, their polished surfaces gleaming under the floodlights lining the path. Flanking either side of the staircase stood massive golden statues, their forms both awestriking and unsettling. On the left, a snarling cerberus, each of its three heads frozen in a lifelike snarl that seemed to exude menace. Opposite it, a coiled hydra loomed, its many heads twisting and curling toward the heavens, as though poised to strike. The detailed craftsmanship was astonishing—the cerberus’s fur looked soft enough to touch, while the hydra’s gleaming scales seemed to ripple under the lights.

“Are those statues alive?” Jenny asked, her voice tinged with equal parts curiosity and unease. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locked on one of the cerberus’s obsidian eyes. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn it moved, swiveling ever so slightly to meet her gaze.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were,” Nathan muttered, his tone low, almost reverent. His own eyes scanned the statues with a mixture of awe and suspicion. Though their forms resembled creatures from Old Earth mythology, there was something disturbingly real about them, as though they were more than just ornamental guardians.

These figures were a new addition—he was sure of it. The last time he had been to headquarters, there had been no such statues. The sheer detail, the oppressive aura they radiated—it was as if they were alive, merely waiting for the right moment to act.

As the sedan neared the base of the stairs, Nathan couldn’t help but feel a subtle shiver run down his spine. Whether it was the statues’ uncanny realism or the weight of being here again, he couldn’t tell. What he did know was that this place never failed to remind him how small and insignificant even the most powerful of individuals could feel in the grander scheme of things.

“Welcome to Raven’s Watch headquarters,” Jonah announced, his deep, measured tone breaking the quiet as the vehicle slowed to a halt at the curve of a small roundabout. Just ahead, an entourage of figures stood waiting at the base of the stairs leading up to the towering glass dome. Their silhouettes, sharp against the golden glow of the dome’s lights, exuded an air of authority.

Nathan’s brow furrowed slightly as he processed Jonah’s words. This was the first time the driver had spoken during the entire journey. The accent in his voice caught Nathan’s attention—a faint, melodic undertone that bore traces of ancient Arabic roots. It was unlike anything Nathan had grown used to hearing in the region, and it lingered in his mind like a whisper from another time.

Tilting his head slightly, Nathan studied Jonah’s reflection in the rearview mirror. There was something about the man’s presence—or lack thereof—that unsettled him. Jonah had been almost unnervingly silent during the trip, moving with precision and purpose but leaving no impression, as though he were merely a shadow occupying the driver’s seat. His demeanor now seemed at odds with the sudden authority of his voice.

Nathan nodded faintly, acknowledging his thoughts. Jonah wasn’t like the rest of them, but perhaps that was the point. That’s exactly what a member of Raven’s Watch is meant to be, he realized. A ghost. A phantom drifting through the world unnoticed, unseen, and unheard until the moment they chose to reveal themselves.

The creed of Raven’s Watch came to mind, a solemn vow sworn by every recruit upon their enlistment: “To be the shadow of the unseen, the silence of the unknown. To live without trace, to die without name.” It wasn’t merely a code—it was their way of life. For some, like Jonah, it became an art. He was the embodiment of secrecy, a living phantom whose every move was deliberate, calculated, and imperceptible.