Unbearable, unearthly cold rattles my bones as I stare straight ahead at the pinpoint of light that may as well be miles away. The beast in the dark, ambiguous in sight whispers to me as it has been my entire 472 years of traversing the Void.

It knows me. My darkest secrets and deepest fears are mocked every time I step foot through a gate to cross to Arequar for work. It tries to get me to jump from the safety of the path created by the gates and into one of its innumerable maws.

It hungers for souls.

I’m quite sure I don’t have one for it to chew on.

“Boss-man,” my blank red eyes, lacking both a visible pupil and iris don’t betray my change in attention. Myles Bennington, my second in command steps up next to me. “You alright?”

“You ask that every trip, Bennington,” the lack of emotion in my voice is par for the course, so he doesn’t persist. My word is taken as fact. “I…appreciate the concern.”

“No problem,” the Werewolf shrugs his burly shoulders. “So, what do you know about the ‘Catch of the Day’.”

There’s a snort of annoyance from my other side, pulling my eyes over and down, far down to the blazing amber gaze of Zion Leif, the most vicious of my team.

I have never been sure if it’s because of her sex that she feels the need for vulgar displays of violence, or the incident she told me of on our first date night five years ago. Regardless, if I need someone out of the way so the mission can be completed, I go to her.

“What?” Myles’ tone betrays his hurt feelings at the lack of a laugh.

“We’re going after a Witch, Myles, not a fish. Take something seriously for once.”

“Both of you,” I sigh heavily. “Can you not?”

“Seriously, Ward? Myles’ stupid hats are bad enough. I mean, come on! ‘Viva La Feminism’?”

“It’s ironic, Zi. Not surprised it went over your head.” Myles snickers.

The corner of my lips quirks up the tiniest bit at that one liner as we take a curve in the path. Zion is near half a foot shorter than Myles, who’s half a foot shorter than I am, and she hates it.

“Shut your goddamned mouth with the fucking short jokes you piece of fucking garbage, or I swear on the Queen I'll shove you into oblivion,” her voice is a near-feral growl. “And fuck off, sir, for encouraging him.”

“Miss Leif, may I remind you that you’re already on probation for inner-squad violence and we are down two men because of your inability to take a joke?”

The tanned skin of her cheeks stretches taut as her jaw drops. Because we are dating, I’m prone to taking her side…not that the others know the reason. Duke and Wesley were of the mind I baby her because she’s the ‘token female’ of our squad. Their stupidity in voicing that around Zion is what lead them both to missing out on six months’ worth of hunts while their broken bones heal and they go through physical therapy.

“You’re going to catch a fly,” I murmur getting wide-eyed stares of surprise from both Myles and Zion.

My mask cracks further, a full on smirk coming out as I walk ahead of my team to get out of the Void and onto the hunt as soon as possible, my wings stretching out as soon as I was sure to not knock either of them off the path.

“Did the Mothman just crack a joke?”