The first day Nyx arrived at the Hex safehouse, nobody celebrated.
The rain hammered against the cracked windows of Höllvania's old apartment block, thunder rolling through the city like distant artillery. The Hex gathered around the table as Entrati introduced the newest recruit.
"Her name is Nyx. She'll be working with us from now on."
Silence.
Arthur leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. He studied the young woman without saying a word. She looked uncomfortable beneath the weight of everyone's stares, clutching her bag tightly as if expecting someone to tell her to leave.
Maybe she should.
The Hex wasn't a family. It wasn't even a team most days. It was a collection of broken people forced together by circumstances none of them asked for.
Lettie made her opinion known immediately.
"No."
The single word cut through the room.
Entrati sighed. "Lettie—"
"I said no. We don't know her. We don't need her."
Nyx lowered her gaze.
Arthur said nothing.
Aoi offered a small wave before returning to her work. Amir barely looked up from his monitor. Quincy muttered something under his breath and walked away.
Only Eleanor stood from her chair.
She crossed the room and offered Nyx a genuine smile.
"Hi. Ignore them."
Nyx blinked.
"They're always like this."
For the first time, the new girl smiled.
Arthur hated how much he noticed it.
Days became weeks.
Then months.
The Hex continued treating Nyx like a ghost.
Aoi was polite but distant.
Amir barely acknowledged her existence.
Quincy acted as if she wasn't in the room.
Lettie openly despised her. Every mission briefing became another opportunity for criticism. Every mistake Nyx made was somehow proof she didn't belong.
Only Eleanor continued reaching out.
She sat with her during meals.
Talked to her during downtime.
Made sure she wasn't alone.
And Arthur...
Arthur watched.
Every day.
From across the room.
During briefings.
During missions.
When she laughed at one of Eleanor's terrible jokes.
When she sat by the window reading.
When she thought nobody was looking.
He told himself it was because she was new.
Because it was his responsibility as leader.
Because he needed to know whether she could be trusted.
That excuse lasted exactly three months.
After that, he knew the truth.
The problem wasn't that he didn't trust Nyx.
The problem was that every time she smiled, every time she stubbornly got back up after being knocked down, every time she endured the cold shoulders and hateful comments without complaint...
He found himself looking for her.
Thinking about her.
Worrying about her.
And when she wasn't around, the safehouse somehow felt emptier.
Arthur Nightingale had faced monsters, soldiers, and horrors beyond imagination.
None of them scared him nearly as much as realizing he had fallen hopelessly in love with the one person in the Hex who believed nobody wanted her there.
Including him.