Chapter 147: What Astrid Got Wrong

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: What Astrid Got Wrong

Persephone sat cross-legged on Vanya’s couch, still slightly unsteady, a blanket draped over her shoulders despite the fact that the apartment wasn’t cold — some instinct toward comfort that her body seemed to need even if her mind understood it wasn’t strictly necessary.

"We need to talk about supplies," Vanya said, settling into the chair across from her with the same brisk efficiency she brought to everything. "Food, water, medicine. The rain’s going to make it harder to move freely soon, so whatever we’re going to gather, we should do it before it gets worse."

"Okay," Persephone said, though her mind was still catching up to the sheer scale of everything she’d learned in the last few hours. "What do you need me to do?"

Vanya studied her for a moment, something assessing in her expression. "Have you awakened?"

Persephone blinked. "Awakened what?"

"An ability," Vanya said, like the concept should be obvious. "A power. Something your body’s developed since the phenomenon began."

"I don’t—" Persephone frowned, genuinely confused. "I don’t think so? I don’t feel like I can do anything special."

Harold, who’d been quietly nursing a cup of water near the kitchen counter, straightened. "Can I show her?"

Vanya nodded once.

Harold crossed to the small end table beside the couch and rested his palm flat against its metal lamp base. For a moment nothing happened, and then the metal began to bend, slow and deliberate, curling in on itself under some invisible pressure only he seemed able to exert.

Persephone’s mouth fell open. "That’s — you’re doing that? With your mind?"

"Sort of." Harold looked pleased with himself in a way that made him seem younger than he probably was. "Metal. That’s mine. Nya’s got space"

"That’s—" Persephone stared at the bent lamp base, some complicated knot of emotions tightening in her chest. Astonishment, mostly. Genuine wonder at what she was seeing. But underneath it, quieter, something she didn’t love feeling: a thin, uncomfortable thread of envy, watching a boy barely younger than her casually reshape metal like it was nothing while she sat there with no idea what, if anything, her own body had changed into.

"I don’t have anything like that," she said quietly.

"You might," Vanya said. "Not everyone’s ability announces itself right away. Some people need the right circumstances before it shows up at all."

"Or maybe I just didn’t get one." Persephone hugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders, trying not to let the disappointment show too plainly.

Vanya didn’t offer false reassurance, which Persephone found she appreciated even through the discomfort. She simply rose instead, crossing to the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a small glass of dark red liquid.

Persephone’s stomach dropped.

"This should help with whatever’s still lingering from the fever," Vanya said, holding it out.

"I — no. Thank you." Persephone’s voice came out tight, polite, though internally she was quietly spiraling. Why does she keep offering me that. What does she think is wrong with me. Does she think I need it because I’m sick, or because of something else entirely, something worse—

"You’re certain?" Vanya asked, unbothered by the second refusal.

"I’m certain." Persephone forced a small smile. "I appreciate it, really. I just — I’m not comfortable with it."

Vanya studied her for a moment longer, then set the glass aside without further comment, though something in her expression had shifted — recalculating, the same careful reassessment Persephone had noticed once already.

"Astrid," Vanya said quietly.

A brief pause, and then a voice answered — not audible to Persephone at all, apparently something only Vanya could hear, though the shift in Vanya’s focus made it obvious a conversation was happening.

"Full scan," Vanya said aloud. "Comprehensive."

Another pause, longer this time.

Comprehensive scan complete, Astrid finally reported, layered directly into Vanya’s mind. Subject presents with confirmed genetic mutation consistent with post-awakening physiology. However, I am unable to identify the specific classification or ability signature at this time. The mutation is present. Its expression remains undetermined.

"So she’s awakened," Vanya said quietly, mostly to herself. "She just hasn’t manifested anything usable yet."

That is the most likely explanation, yes.

Vanya nodded slowly, filing the information away with her usual efficiency, and turned her attention back to the room. "You have awakened," she told Persephone. "The ability just hasn’t shown itself yet. That happens. It doesn’t mean you’re lacking anything."

Persephone absorbed that with a small, relieved exhale, some of the tight envy in her chest finally easing.

Vanya didn’t dwell on it further, already moving the conversation back toward logistics — routes, timing, what to prioritize — but a quieter exchange continued in the background of her own mind, unheard by either Azar cousin in the room.

Astrid, Vanya said internally, sharper now. Why isn’t she accepting the blood.

I do not have a definitive answer, Astrid replied. Though I have been reconsidering my earlier hypothesis regarding her physiology.

Meaning?

Meaning I may have miscalculated, Astrid said, and if a system without a voice could sound faintly embarrassed, this came close. My initial assessment of a vampiric classification was based on documented folklore from your era of origin — physiological markers that, in the interstellar timeline, corresponded reliably to that bloodline. I extrapolated those markers onto this timeline without sufficient verification.

You’re saying vampires might not exist here.

I am saying I cannot currently confirm that they do, Astrid clarified. As you may recall, host, everything documented about pre-collapse civilizations in your original timeline was eventually confirmed to be historically accurate — events, bloodlines, phenomena that had been dismissed as myth or fiction in earlier records were later verified as fact once sufficient data existed. I extended that same logic here, assuming this world’s folklore about vampiric bloodlines carried similar historical weight.

And now?

Now I suspect I extended that logic prematurely. This world’s mythology may simply be fiction, in the most literal sense — stories, not history. I do not yet have enough data to be certain either way. But given that Persephone Azar presents no biomarkers consistent with the classification beyond the temperature and pallor already explained by the awakening fever itself, I consider it substantially more likely that she is, in fact, fully human.

Vanya’s expression didn’t change outwardly, though internally something sharp and faintly mortified settled behind her composure.

So I’ve been offering a full-blooded human a cup of blood. Repeatedly.

That does appear to be the case, yes.

She must think I’m insane.

I would not rule that out, Astrid said, with the particular flat dryness it reserved for moments like this. Though I would also note, host, that the situation carries a small silver lining.

Which is?

At least in this world, you can rest assured no one will attempt to drink your blood in your sleep.

Vanya’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, the closest she came these days to an actual glare, though nothing of it showed on her face for Persephone or Harold to catch.

I am revoking your access to sarcasm, Vanya said flatly.

I do not believe that is within your capability, host.

I will find a way.

Outwardly, none of this exchange registered at all. Vanya simply rose, collected the untouched glass from the table, and carried it back toward the kitchen with the same unhurried composure she brought to everything, as though she hadn’t just quietly discovered she’d spent the last several days making an entirely unnecessary and faintly alarming assumption about her new neighbor.

"We’ll figure out your ability eventually," she said, returning to the couch, voice perfectly even. "For now, focus on what you can control. Supplies. Safety. The rest will come when it comes."

Persephone nodded, relieved the conversation had moved past the blood entirely, with absolutely no idea how close she’d come to becoming the punchline of an argument she’d never even known was happening.