Interstellar Beast Master-Chapter 23: Calm before the storm I

After such an exchange of words, it was hard to stomach any of the remaining food. Kitsuul, however, opened her jaws like a vacuum and inhaled everything.

She could really eat- more than five times her body weight in minutes in fact.

And soon after...

They left the Krusty Squid quietly, tension simmering beneath the surface like steam under a steel lid.

Kitsuul flicked her tails once—delicate and fluid as Damian vanished.

Not literally, but in that ephemeral, only-Kitsuul-knows-how sort of way.

Cloaked in her Veilborn power, he followed close behind Anastasia as she walked out alone, her expression carefully neutral.

"I'll be right beside you," he whispered low, just for her to hear, as they crossed the noisy halls flickering with artificial light.

Anastasia looked like she belonged—like a woman who hadn't cried in days, who hadn't just spilled a week's worth of nightmares onto a table smeared with synthetic grease and spicy lobsters.

They exited the Krusty Squid into the pulsating streets of the Hollow Stacks, where sky traffic buzzed and life thrummed beneath flickering neon.

Signs blinked out promises no one believed anymore. Damian trailed her in silence, scanning alleys and rooftops, nerves wired tight despite Kitsuul's veil.

He knew he might be overdoing it, but in the Hollow Stacks, you never knew who was watching.

With no trouble, they reached his tall, familiar apartment complex tucked into the underbelly of the Stacks.

The rusted elevator groaned like it hadn't seen oil in decades. A new message had been scrawled on it—different from the one Damian saw that morning.

[Good news. The bloodstains are gone.

Bad news—they weren't bloodstains, they were warnings.]

"..."

Damian stared with cold eyes. His form shimmered back into visibility as Anastasia raised a brow, reading it too.

"Don't even ask," he muttered.

They rode to his floor as he proceeded to welcome her in the apartment with a nod.

Their equipment was set to be delivered later that night—they'd leave for Skyglass Heights as soon as it arrived and was sorted in the morning.

Inside, the narrow hallway of the apartment smelled like scorched metal and old coffee.

Anastasia glanced around the small, barren space before heading straight to the bedroom without a word.

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She didn't ask where to sleep. Didn't hesitate. She just sat down on the bed, staring at the door Damian locked shut across from her.

The sun hadn't fully set, but her eyes were heavy from a week without rest.

Damian stroked Kitsuul's fur and sent her a quiet message. She blinked once, then hopped onto the bed and curled up beside Anastasia's legs like a small, six-tailed guardian.

Damian slid down the hallway wall until he was seated across from the door.

"You haven't slept in days. So sleep," he whispered, unsure if she could even hear. "We'll need our minds sharp tomorrow. As promised, I'll stand guard to make sure nothing comes our way."

...!

She didn't respond, but her breathing steadied—calm, deep.

Damian tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, memories of Ilyana surfacing—of the last time she'd been in this apartment.

The memories came and went like silent waves.

That was all he had left now.

Memories.

And for the rest of the night, that was all he clung to—memories swirling through his mind on repeat.

—

Night came. And night passed.

The wild chaos of the Hollow Stacks could be indulged in or ignored entirely—depending on your choice.

No sunbeams reached this deep into the city's stomach, but Anastasia jolted awake at some point.

Boxes stood neatly in a corner—reinforced foam, sleek black cases with biometric locks. The equipment had arrived silently, just as promised. Damian had brought it in himself as it now dominated the cramped apartment.

Anastasia stirred. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, realizing she'd been hugging Kitsuul like a plush toy. The little creature chirped sleepily but didn't move, content to be held.

She blinked once. Then again. As if realizing where she was. And the fact that she... had actually slept?

No nightmares?

She clutched her head and searched for her glasses.

Her eyes locked on the gear.

Sliding off the mattress, she padded over to the crates, fingers brushing the ridged surfaces. When she turned, her gaze landed on Damian—still slumped against the wall, head tilted awkwardly to the side, looking like he'd passed out mid-thought.

She paused, stared at him for a heartbeat, then shook her head.

Quietly, she walked to the kitchen.

The fridge greeted her with a sad wheeze.

One water bottle. Expired sauce packets. Something better left unidentified.

"Of course," she muttered with a nod.

She opened her phone and ordered breakfast—high-protein meal packs with real eggs and faux turkey bacon. Nutrient-dense. Overpriced, but she didn't care. She had a little money now.

While the order was processed, she glanced around the apartment. It was barely more than a box- a small bathroom and a smaller closet. She peeked inside—dark coats, black pants, the uniform of someone who lived in shadows.

She grabbed what looked like a clean towel and stepped into the bathroom.

Casting a glance at the sleeping Damian, she slipped out of her clothes and into the shower to start the day.

And...

'Fuck!'

She nearly screamed.

The water was cold. Miserably cold. She hissed, cursed, and endured.

At least it woke her up.

At least it told her that for today, she was still alive.

—

Damian didn't know how long he'd slept.

But he awoke to the sound of dripping water, blinking groggily to see a hazy figure stepping out of the bathroom, towel-wrapped and drying her hair.

Still dazed, he spoke without thinking.

"Ilyana?"

...!

The single word froze the woman in her tracks.

And just as quickly, Damian snapped out of it.

His fog lifted.

He saw Anastasia—rigid, cold, towel clutched tight.

A heavy silence followed.

She broke it by grabbing her clothes on the bed nearby and slipping back into the bathroom.

"You have no hot water," she said, her tone flat but tinged with accusation.

At least it gave Damian something to focus on anything other than the slip of calling her by his dead sister's name!