Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Of Crescents, Sparkles 

and Errands to Run

Astra dusted herself off as the last perp dropped face-first onto the concrete. Another night, another sexual assault stopped just in time.

She fell into stride beside Billie, whose shoulders rose well above her head. His buzz cut looked freshly clipped, his brown eyes already sweeping the next block.

The street pulsed with neon and patrol sirens. She had to raise her voice just to be heard. “Why is there a sudden spike in cases?”

Billie adjusted his gray hoodie, fingers twitchy, lips pressed together.

Astra stopped walking, eyes narrowing. “You know something.”

He sighed, cast a wary glance at passing pedestrians, and leaned closer so only she could catch the words. “Rumor says a covert op’s underway in Alchymia. High-level stuff.”

“Bigger than stopping rapists in alleys?”

“Yeah. Most of the senior agents got redirected. That’s why we’re cleaning up their mess,” he said, then added awkwardly, “And, uh… you look good, by the way.”

She didn’t hear the compliment; her mind was already racing. Lust was tightening around the world, feeding chaos while the Council chased the aftermath. Reacting wasn’t going to be enough.

“The Council’s hiding something,” she muttered.

Billie nodded. “Well above our pay grade.”

They arrived at a skyscraper. High-gloss glass, a rooftop bar above, and music loud enough to rattle the floor. At the bar, Astra spotted her target immediately: red hair, red dress, redder lipstick, and laughing like she meant it. She sat at a small round table, swiveling slightly in her chair, fingers trailing along her date’s arm like he was dessert.

Dessert.

Astra scowled. She hadn’t even gotten that far on her own date night before Billie’s frantic messages ruined everything. She needed to end this fast and get back to Eydis.

She slipped through the crowd of perfume-marinated bodies, approached the target from behind, and pinched the carotid. The redhead sagged, unconscious before her laughter fully died.

Billie winced. He never got used to how quick she could end a person’s night, or their whole arcane circuit.

The target’s date gaped, but Billie was quick to press a tranquiliser to the man’s neck. He slumped before a scream could fully form, his head hitting the round table with a thud that spilled the pink cocktails across its surface.

“How many left?” Astra asked.

Billie called over the thumping music, “Two more, for now.” Then, muttering under his breath, “Unless our handler’s hitting copy-paste again.”

Astra nodded. Yet something tugged at the back of her neck like a forgotten memory surfacing. Her head turned on its own. She scanned the crowd. Nothing looked out of place. Just people being people: too close, too loud, too sweaty. Bodies grinding to bass like the world outside didn’t exist.

Behind her, Billie cleared his throat, courage tumbling out. “So, after this, I was thinking ramen. I know a place nearby. Good broth. And, uh, you bought the burger last time, so I figured…”

He trailed off into something about shared meals and mutual interest, but Astra had already tuned out. The pull was too strong, stronger than she could simply write off as coincidence.

She crossed the dance floor, bodies and heat parting just enough to let her pass. At the curved tempered glass railing she paused, palm against the cool pane, feeling it vibrate slightly with the bass.

Then, beyond it, the night sky lit up. A golden, crescent light caught her eye, coming from a rooftop about a kilometer away.

That power… 

It felt like hers.

Astra turned back to Billie, eyes hard. “Handle the rest,” she said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

Billie’s shoulders dropped, disappointment obvious, but Astra was already disappearing into the crowd, her silver hair catching flashes of violet and green light.

Outside her building, sirens chased each other in circles, wailing nonstop for hours. At her workstation, Melissa tried to focus on refining the formula, but the noise drilled through her concentration.

She didn’t know exactly what had triggered this outbreak, but the flu was spreading faster than expected and had nearly crippled the medical system with case after case.

The Council had roped her into developing a temporary solution: vials meant to target the Gifted. She’d already used one on Natalia, which had been simple. She knew Natalia’s arcane makeup like the back of her own sleep-deprived hand.

But developing a universal vial that could address all kinds of affinities wasn’t something she could pull off in two weeks.

The sirens blared again. Then her phone vibrated. She glared at the screen and groaned.

Eydis.

She reached for the phone, intending to silence it, then paused. What if…

Natalia’s in trouble?

“Dr. Le Bleu speaking.”

“There she is. The ever-elusive doc with the voice like a caffeine crash. Always a pleasure,” came a velvety and all-too-smug voice.

“I wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” Melissa’s voice was scratchy from disuse. She scowled and cleared her throat.

There was a dramatic gasp. Melissa ignored it and plowed on. “Is there a problem? Is Nat in trouble?”

A pause. Then Eydis, sounding suspiciously close to sincere, said, “She’s fine, doctor. But I need a favour, if you’d be so kind.”

“And what gave you the idea I’m your personal helpline?” Melissa complained, though she didn’t hang up. “Call triple zero, unless you’re worried they’ll shine sunlight and you’ll go up in smoke.”

Eydis chuckled. “The reference eludes me, but… not inaccurate. Light and I aren’t close.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. One day, she’d prove Eydis was a vampire. One day. “What do you want?”

“I need a few vials. The ones you’ve been developing.”

Melissa straightened. “What—how do you know about those?”

“I’m Natalia’s friend, remember? I know you’ve been helping her stabilise her mana.”

“And from that, you figured I’d just hand them over?” Melissa snorted. “It’s experimental. And I’m not Arcana Prime.”

“I thought we were friends, doc. We even sleep together in the same—”

“Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence.”

“Apartment,” Eydis finished anyway, of course. “A friend of mine has taken to growing weeds and emotions. The flu, I mean.”

Melissa deeply regretted answering the call. She could hear the smirk and seriously doubted the person in question was a friend at all.

“That narrows it down to half the Gifted population,” she muttered, mostly as a fact-check. “For now.”

“Well, they’re probably a… Nature affinity. Definitely weepy. It’s all very… tragically chlorophilic.”

Blue eyes flicked to the vials she had designed for Nature Gifts. The efficacy wasn’t fully tested, but there shouldn’t be side effects. Still…

“Persuade me.”

“One coin. Crypto. Direct to your account,” Eydis said.

“That’s a lot of money. How did you—”

Eydis’s tone turned serious. “It’s important that my friend stabilises, doc. You know it, I know it. I can hear the sirens through the phone. I only need two vials.”

The sirens wailed dramatically, almost as if in agreement. Melissa rolled her eyes so hard, her temple filed a complaint. She was sure her windows were soundproof, damn it. “It’s honestly baffling that you even have friends.”

“I share your disbelief,” Eydis replied, unconcerned.

“Fine. Whatever. Keep your coin.”

“I knew you liked me.”

Melissa scoffed. “I like functioning hospitals. Don’t read too much into it. But how exactly do you plan to pick them up?”

A knock sounded on her office door.

The doctor frowned. At this hour, the clinic should’ve been empty. How had anyone even gotten into her office?

“It’s me,” came Eydis’s voice from outside.

Melissa opened it a crack. “Pretty sure this place requires three keycards and a blood offering to enter.”

Eydis stood there in a black dress and sheer lace, her pale skin and piercing amber eyes giving her the look of a cover model for Vogue: Vampire Edition. She looked even more vampiric than usual, her skin was definitely paler, not that Melissa noticed Eydis’s complexion or anything.

She didn’t speak for a moment, which was odd. Normally, by now, she would have tossed out at least three metaphors.

“Locks are symbolic,” she said at last, dead serious.

There it is.

Melissa contemplated slamming the door in her face. But, image. Reputation. And Natalia. Ugh. She turned back to her desk, grabbed two green vials and a pack of blue ones, and shoved them into Eydis’s hands.

“Green is for Nature Gifts. Blue is for Natalia. No mixing them up like cocktails.”

Eydis nodded but didn’t move. Her face was strangely neutral. What was weirder than Astra’s smile was Eydis’s lack of expression; the two of them were like puzzle pieces that fit too perfectly together. Wait—what?

Melissa squinted. “Why are you still here?”

“I have another critical errand.”

“And I’m involved… how?”

Eydis shuffled from one studded leather heel (oh, good taste) to the other, somehow managing an expression of pure, wide-eyed sincerity.

Melissa, however, heard sirens. Lots of them. “Tell me you don’t need help hiding a body.”

“Why hide them when you can swallow them?” Eydis said, perfectly serious, then winced, like something had reprimanded her.

Melissa had 000 half-dialed.

“Kidding,” Eydis added. “I’m looking for a kebab shop. I’m lost.”

Melissa stared. “Come again?”

Eydis looked genuinely mournful, and then—God help her—let out a tiny, pitiful whine. “Hungwy.”

Hungwy. 

Not hungry. Hungwy.

Melissa had to physically stop herself from gaping. “I swear, I’m going to drag you into the sunlight and see what happens.” She pulled out her phone to check Goggle reviews anyway.

Eydis tilted her head, like she was listening to voices only she could hear. Then, with a look so deadpan she could’ve been possessed by Astra, she said,

“I might sparkle tastefully.”

Melissa muttered a curse in French and kept scrolling.