Page 331 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Does not enter my theatre."

"You are not thinking clearly."

Renji closed one small vessel in Mori's throat. Not the airway. Not enough to harm. Only enough for the Commander to feel pressure beneath the pulse. Mori's eyes widened. Renji held it for one beat. Then released him.

"I have never thought more clearly."

The Commander raised one hand. The officers stepped back. Mori remained.

"You remember it," he said.

Renji looked at him. The phrase belonged to more than technique.

"Yes."

Mori's face seemed older.

"The seven bloodlines claimed your family could kill entire courts without drawing a weapon."

"They lied about many things."

"Not that."

"No."

Nakagawa's hands slowed. Sakamoto looked across the table. Everyone present understood at last. The Takahara had not been feared merely because Hemomancy could manipulate blood. Any vampire with sufficient strength could spill it. The Takahara had made blood precise. They could identify one pulse among hundreds. Preserve allies while disabling enemies.Turn every wound on a battlefield into a source of information. Every exposed vein into an instrument. Armies depended on movement, breath and circulation. The Takahara could remove any one of those without touching steel.

Seven bloodlines had not joined forces to defeat a dangerous family. They had required seven bloodlines because attacking one Takahara territory had meant entering a battlefield the Takahara could feel from within every living body. And they had still needed betrayal. Fire. Human allies. An assault staged while the family attempted to evacuate children rather than defend themselves.

Renji understood the massacre differently now. His family had not lacked the power to kill everyone who came. They had chosen whom they would not kill. That mercy had been used against them.

Mori understood the same thing.

"This is what the Archive contains," he said.

"Part of it."

"If Sota gains access—"

"He does not have Takahara blood."

"He has descendants."

Renji's hands remained steady.

"Then perhaps he has more right to it than you."

Mori flinched. Small. Real.

Before he could answer, the theatre lights flickered. The monitors restarted their tones. One nurse looked towards the ceiling.

"Power fluctuation."

Sakamoto's gaze sharpened.

"The generators should have transferred without interruption."

Renji felt something before the alarms began. Not within Haruki. Beyond him. Human heartbeats accelerating in the corridor. Too many. Footsteps. A shout cut short.