Bloody Mistake

The chamber door closed with a heavy thud as Zhang Yuan departed, leaving Gisela alone with her thralls. Their tongues were already buried deep within her, lapping greedily at her nethers as she reclined amidst the plush furs and groped her breasts, her fingers digging into her own flesh.

"Deeper!" Gisela snarled, fisting handfuls of their matted hair. She ground their faces ruthlessly against her dripping sex, uncaring of their muffled gasps and whimpers. " I want your tongues buried in my cunt, you worthless sluts."

The two females obeyed desperately, slick muscle probing and swirling with frantic need to please. Gisela threw back her head with a guttural moan, delighting in the heady scents of submission and arousal that perfumed the air. Her other hand seized the male thrall's skull in a vice-grip, yanking his throat against her elongated fangs.

For several delirious minutes, the vampiress surrendered herself to pure, animalistic indulgence. Ecstasy thrummed through her undead veins as her slaves worshipped her body, their fear and desperation only heightening her sadistic pleasure. Gisela ground her hips against their slavering mouths, ruthlessly using them for her carnal gratification.

At last, she reached her peak in a blinding wave of rapture, back arching taut as a bow. An inhuman shriek of release tore from her crimson lips as she clenched the thralls' skulls against her convulsing sex. With a vicious snarl, Gisela wrenched the hapless male against her fangs, piercing his jugular in a torrent of hot arterial spray.

She drank deeply of his life's essence, draining him to a withered husk in her arms. Finally sated, Gisela cast the corpse aside with a contemptuous sneer, licking her bloodied lips with lewd satisfaction.

"Out, both of you!" she commanded, glaring at the cowering female thralls with blazing eyes. "Leave me be until I summon you again for more punishment, slaves!"

The thralls scurried to obey, the two females gathering their fallen brother with trembling hands before fleeing the inner sanctum. Gisela watched them go with a cruel smile, already anticipating their next agonizing session. Perhaps she'd take a new toy next time...a virgin would make for such delicious torment.

The heavy door had barely closed behind the fleeing thralls when a faint rustling came from one of the vaulted ceiling's wooden beams. Gisela's lips curved into a predatory smile as she sensed the presence manifesting itself.

A small bat fluttered down, leathery wings beating the air in a blur. As it neared her reclined form, the creature underwent a familiar metamorphosis. Papery skin stretched taut as the body elongated and reshaped, taking on a distinctly humanoid form. Within moments, a pale, sharp-featured man stood before the vampiress in a swirl of ebon robes.

"Mistress Gisela." The newcomer dipped his head ever so slightly, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. "I observed your... discussions with the Eastern wizard. Cleverly done, casting shadows on our self-control."

Gisela arched a single, shapely eyebrow, casually reclining naked in the messy furs stained with her arousal. "Gavril. What causes my father's obedient dog to visit so unannounced?"

The vampire Gavril's lip curled in distaste at her insult, but he knew better than to rise to the bait. "Merely passing along a message from Lord Vracen himself. He commends your efforts in securing allies for the Dark Lord's extraction."

A flicker of interest kindled behind Gisela's crimson gaze. Her father's approval was always welcome, despite her outward nonchalance. "I aim only to serve our kind's interests, as always. Speak on."

Gavril's smile didn't reach his cold eyes. "The Lord has an additional objective he wishes you to undertake during this operation."

Now her interest was well and truly piqued. Gisela sat up, idly toying with a stray lock of dark hair. "Oh? Do elaborate, sweet Gavril. You know how I enjoy challenges."

His smirk growing into a sinister smile, the vampiric underling savoured the pleasure of assigning such a critical task to his sire's daughter. "During the extraction of the Dark Lord, make every effort to obtain a cache of Time-Turners from the Ministry's collection."

Gisela's swollen-red lips parted in amazement. These mystical time-traveling artifacts were exceptionally rare and held immense value—just one could provide the clan with a strategic upper hand. "You can't be serious," she whispered, leaning forward without realizing it. "An entire cache?"

Gavril nodded, clearly relishing the sight of her growing greed. "Indeed. Lord Vracen believes these devices could be... exceptionally useful for our future plans, should we acquire them." His smile became predatory. "He has great faith in your abilities, Mistress. After all, failure is... not an option."

The unspoken threat hung in the air between them, its weight chilling even Gisela's undead flesh. She matched Gavril's grin with one of her own, baring a hint of lengthened fang.

"Don't worry," she crooned in a tone of dark promise. "The Dark Lord will be freed, and father will get his Time Turners. This, I vow."

Gavril inclined his head once more, mollified by her oath. "I shall convey your words to Lord Vracen. Do not disappoint." With that final response, his body blurred and reshaped itself into a bat-like form. The creature took wing with a shrill screech, flapping out through the high window's opening as swiftly as it had arrived.

With a scowl etched on her normally dazzling face, Gisela watched Gavril's bat-like form dissolve into the night. How could that fawning lackey speak to her so insolently? She was the daughter of Lord Vracen, a Zykrvitz princess, not some lowborn minion to be directed at will.

With an enraged snarl, she lashed out, raking her claws across the luxurious furs in a frenzy. Plush velvet and satin shredded like parchment under her onslaught as she vented her ire. Gisela's chest heaved with each ragged breath, crimson eyes blazing like twin rubies amidst the ruined bedding.

"Miserable wretch!" she spat, fangs glinting wetly in the candlelight. "I'll show him and my father what a true Zykrvitz is capable of!"

Gavril had made it abundantly clear just how high the stakes were. Failure would not be tolerated - a fact Gisela was intimately familiar with. She could still recall with vivid clarity the agonizing punishments Lord Vracen meted out for even the most trifling of failures during her training.

A shudder racked her slender frame as the spectres of her past torment resurfaced. She remembered the scorching pain of the silver-tipped whip across her bare skin and the nauseating sound of bones snapping as her fingers were methodically shattered. But the worst memories were of the times she had been punished for failure by being subjected to sexual abuse. The powerlessness she felt during those violations of her body by multiple male thralls, all because she had failed to meet Lord Vracen's exacting standards.

And then there was the iron maiden, filled not with water, but with the blood of a long-dead man, a punishment designed to invoke her greatest fear—vampiric drowning. The memory of that terrifying experience sent a fresh wave of dread through her.

Gisela shuddered, pushing the traumatic memories from her mind with visible effort. Dwelling on such horrors would only weaken her resolve. She was no longer the helpless fledgling subject to her father's cruel whims - she was the Mistress of her own branch of the clan now, a being of true power and influence.

Stretching out her lithe, nude form, Gisela allowed herself a slow, sensuous smile. Yes, she would succeed in this mission, and her father would be forced to acknowledge her capabilities once and for all.

The image of Zhang Yuan's stoic countenance flickered through her mind, that arrogant sneer of disdain he had given her offered essence. Most males, human or vampire, would have eagerly lapped up such an intimate gift from one as desirable as herself. But the Eastern wizard had simply turned away, utterly unmoved by her seductive charms.

A low growl rumbled in Gisela's throat as her fingers traced idle patterns across her flat belly. How dare that arrogant mortal spurn her so brazenly! Did he not realize who and what she was? She would make him regret his insolence soon enough...

The vampiress's angered thoughts took a different turn as she envisioned Zhang Yuan at her mercy, bound and helpless before her predatory lusts. She could almost taste the exotic tang of his blood on her lips as her fangs pierced his yielding flesh. Yes, once this mission concluded, perhaps she would claim the Eastern wizard as a new plaything to sate her desires upon.

Gisela moistened her lips with a slow, sensual swipe of her tongue, relishing the vivid, provocative fantasies playing out in her imagination. She would utterly shatter Zhang Yuan, dismantling his intolerable arrogance until he groveled and pleaded for the kindness of her touch. The haughty wizard's cries would be music to her ears as she enslaved him forever.

Desire burned hot in Gisela's loins as her fingers drifted lower, circling her rapidly stiffening clit. She arched her back with a throaty moan, losing herself in the fantasies of subjugating the defiant Eastern mage. Her hips shook shamelessly, eagerly indulging in the sinful pleasures that always brought such delicious release.

So lost was Gisela in her lustful trance that she barely registered the chamber's doors creaking open once more. It wasn't until a small noise of shock reached her ears that she slowly cracked open one eye, lips quirked in dark amusement.

There stood a fresh-faced young woman, clearly one of the newer thralls sent for her to enjoy. The poor dear looked utterly scandalized, her mouth working soundlessly as she beheld the shameless display of Gisela's self-gratification.

"You..." The thrall finally managed to squeak out, cheeks blazing crimson. "You unholy demon!"

Gisela chuckled, low and throaty as she lazily spread her legs wider in blatant invitation. "Why, whatever is the matter, little one?" She crooned, tongue flicking out to moisten her crimson lips. "Have you never witnessed the divine act of pleasure before?"

The thrall could only sputter incoherently, seemingly rooted to the spot as Gisela's fingers danced in lewd motions between her nether lips. "N-No! This is... This is an abomination against the Lord's teachings!"

With a disappointed sigh, Gisela rose from the ruined bedding in one fluid, sinuous motion. Within a blur of preternatural speed, she was directly before the thrall, lips curved in a cruel smile as she drank in the mortal's fear.

"Is that so?" She purred, delicately tracing the pad of one finger down the thrall's cheek. The poor girl flinched violently, squeezing her eyes shut as Gisela leaned in to whisper against the curve of her throat. "Then allow me to introduce you to my own... delightfully profane teachings, my sweet."

The thrall's eyes flew open, but it was too late. Gisela's fangs had already pierced the tender flesh of her jugular in one smooth, vicious motion. She drank deep of the warm, coppery essence, moaning rapturously as the thrall's struggles gradually weakened to feeble twitches.

Only once the last drop had been wrung from the lifeless husk did Gisela allow the drained corpse to crumple to the floor. Licking her lips clean with slow relish, she stared down at the thrall's sightless eyes with pity.

"A waste of sweet blood," she murmured, giving the corpse a contemptuous nudge with one bare foot. "But a necessary lesson in obedience for you, nonetheless."

With a disdainful sniff, she turned and sauntered back towards the plush furs that adorned her throne.

Reclining amidst the rumpled bedding, she lazily spread her thighs, exposing her glistening lower lips to the chill chamber air. One delicate hand drifted down, fingertips lightly circling her engorged clit as she savoured the lingering taste of the thrall's blood.

A soft moan parted Gisela's crimson lips as she steadily built the sensual friction. She arched her back, dark strands spilling across the satin pillows as she lost herself in the throes of pleasure once more. This was true ecstasy - indulging her vampiric lusts without inhibition or shame.

So engrossed was she in her wanton ministrations that the chamber door slamming open barely registered at first. It wasn't until a masculine voice barked out that Gisela's eyes fluttered open in annoyance.

"Mistress! We have an emergency situation to rep—"

The matriarch's irate glare fell upon the intruder, freezing him in place with its sheer intensity. It was Christoph, one of her more capable lieutenants who oversaw intelligence gathering. His eyes were wide, jaw working soundlessly as he took in the sight of his mistress so brazenly on display.

"Well?" Gisela purred after a moment, idly continuing to stroke herself. "Are you just going to stand there gawping like a brain-addled fool? Or did you actually have something worth interrupting me for?"

Christoph swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from the erotic sight she presented. A distinct bulge tented at the front of his breeches as his body reacted despite his mind's protests.

"I...that is..." He stammered, licking his dry lips. "Mistress, please, there is an urgent matter that requires your attention!"

Rolling her eyes, Gisela crooked a single finger in a contemptuous beckoning gesture. "Oh, very well. If it will get you to spit it out, then come here. Let's see if your... stamina matches your apparent ardour."

The words had the intended effect. Christoph's face flushed bright red as she boldly spread her glistening folds, presenting herself in a lewd invitation. Despite his urgency, he found himself stumbling forward in a daze, hands fumbling with the laces of his breeches.

Gisela watched with dark amusement as the vampire lieutenant freed his straining manhood. She licked her lips slowly, enjoying his rapt expression as her fingers drifted lower to tease her slick entrance.

"That's it," she crooned silkily. "Let Mistress take care of that lovely cock while you deliver your report. Perhaps you'll earn a reward for obedience..."

Christoph groaned loudly, his hips twitching forward of their own volition. But just as the swollen head of his shaft brushed against Gisela's moist folds, he seemed to regain some semblance of sense. Shaking his head rapidly, he backed away, tucking himself back into his breeches with shaking hands.

"N-No! Mistress, please, I cannot... There is an emergency that requires your immediate attention!" He pleaded, shamefaced at his moment of weakness. "We've just detected a massive breach of the Statute of Secrecy!"

That got Gisela's attention like a bucket of ice water. She sat up abruptly, lips curling back to reveal a hint of lengthened fang. "What did you say?" She hissed, all traces of lustful amusement vanishing like a snuffed candle flame. "Explain, quickly!"

Christoph swallowed hard, clearly relieved to have regained his mistress's focus. "Our surveillance teams detected footage from Hong Kong being broadcast worldwide by human news channels. They're reporting... some kind of fiery entity utterly demolishing the Kowloon Walled City."

The predatory glint in Gisela's crimson eyes sharpened to a razored edge as the gravity of Christoph's words sank in. Her fangs elongated in a snarl of pure fury, causing the lieutenant to flinch instinctively.

"Broadcast worldwide, you say?" She hissed, rising from the ruined bedding with cold purpose. Gisela stalked across the chamber, heedless of her nude state as she snatched up a sheer black negligee. The diaphanous material did little to conceal her curvaceous figure as she pulled it on with sharp, angry motions.

"Y-Yes, Mistress," Christoph stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from the enticing vision she presented. He quickly averted his eyes when she shot him a withering look. "The footage is being replayed across every major human news network as we speak. There's no way to stem the flow now."

With an incoherent growl, Gisela lashed out, sweeping a crystal vase from its pedestal to shatter against the far wall. "Imbeciles!" She raged, crimson nails raking across the polished marble as she fought for composure. "Do they have any concept of the damage this could cause?"

Christoph knew better than to respond. The vampiress's wrath was a terrifying thing to behold, especially when the Zykrvitz Clan's secrecy was threatened. He could only watch with a sense of detached pity as she paced in a feline manner.

Finally, after several tense moments, Gisela seemed to regain her calm. When she spoke again, her tone was contemplative - though no less dangerous for its deceptive softness.

"Show me," she commanded quietly. "I want to see this... footage and just how severe the breach is."

With a curt nod, Christoph turned on his heel and strode from the chamber, clearly expecting Gisela to follow. The vampiress snatched up a sheer black robe, hastily belting the transparent material around her lithe form before sweeping after her lieutenant.

Their path led down a spiralling stone staircase that plunged deep beneath the castle's foundations. The damp chill intensified with each descending level, stale air carrying the musty scent of earth and mould. Gisela's nose wrinkled faintly in distaste, but she made no outward comment.

At last, they reached a heavy iron-bound door set into the bedrock. Christoph produced a weighty ring of keys, quickly locating the proper one to unlock the entrance with a groan of rusted metal.

"This way, Mistress," he whispered, holding the door for her to lead him through the threshold. 

The chamber ahead was a glaring contrast to the somber catacombs. Bright electric lights illuminated the space with harsh fluorescence, glinting off the glossy tile floors and streamlined metal consoles. A series of curved stations formed a horseshoe around a large, unlit viewscreen.

Half a dozen vampires manned the various stations, flanked by twice as many human thralls in a perpetual state of wide-eyed terror. All activity ceased as the striking figures of Gisela and Christoph entered the secure communications hub.

The vampiress's lack of clothing did not lessen her aura of commanding power and authority. Gisela stepped into the chamber with regal composure, her chin held high, and her ruby-red eyes glinting with a threatening light.

The vampires were the first to react, hastily rising and bowing in a show of respect bordering on outright worship. Their human counterparts shrank back, awed and terrified by the sheer predatory presence Gisela exuded.

All except for one thrall.

A young woman, no more than eighteen by human reckoning, stared openly at the vampiress in utter desire. Her lips moved soundlessly as she took in Gisela's state of undress, gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts visible through the sheer robe.

One of the vampires, a hulking brute with a scar tracing his jawline, noticed the thrall's unforgivable lapse in decorum. With a disdainful sneer, he lashed out - the back of his hand cracking across the girl's face with enough force to send her tumbling from her seat.

"You dare disrespect the Mistress, cattle?" He snarled, stalking forward with clear intent to deliver further punishment. The thrall could only whimper, cradling her already-swelling cheek as she shrank back against the unforgiving tiles.

"Enough."

Gisela's voice cut through the chamber like a razor-edged whip, freezing the vampire in his tracks. She didn't raise her voice, nor betray any overt emotion - yet that single utterance carried more innate authority than a hundred barked commands.

The scarred vampire flinched, swallowing hard as he met his mistress's crimson glare. "B-But Mistress, the thrall's brazenness—"

"Is trivial compared to the crisis at hand," Gisela interjected smoothly, already dismissing the matter from her mind. "Punish the wretch later if you must, but for now... Attend me."

Properly cowed, the vampire bowed low alongside his fellows, muttering a fervent, "Yes, Mistress. Your will be done."

Only then did Gisela turn her piercing stare upon the thralls, many of whom averted their eyes in sheer terror. She gestured idly towards the main viewscreen.

"You were told to show me this... footage, were you not?" She prompted, the slightest hint of impatience creeping into her tone. "Well? I'm waiting."

The thralls flinched as one, exchanging panicked looks before one of the bolder males swallowed hard and nodded. "A-At once, Mistress!"

His hands shook so violently it took three attempts to input the proper commands. The video footage played out across the massive viewscreen, news helicopters capturing the fiery devastation in grim detail. Gisela watched in stony silence as an immense, human-like entity wreathed in flames laid waste to the densely populated Kowloon district.

Concrete and steel buckled like tinfoil beneath the onslaught, entire city blocks crumbling to ash and ruin in the beast's wake. Fleeing crowds surged through the tight streets in futile attempts to escape the apocalyptic scene, only to be engulfed in billowing clouds of flame and debris.

By the time the video finished, the vampiress's beautiful face was locked in an expression of frigid fury. Her slender hands balled into tight fists, nails digging deeply into her palms, leaving bloody marks.

"Fools..." she hissed through gritted fangs, crimson eyes blazing with outrage. "Utter, blundering fools!"

The assembled vampires and thralls shrank back instinctively from Gisela's wrath. Only Christoph dared meet her angry gaze, awaiting his mistress's next words with visible concern.

"Do those idiotic wizards have any concept of the damage they've caused?" Gisela raged, whirling on them with a sharp crack of her thin robe. "Flaunting their magics before the entire human world like that? Obliviating the news crew in plain sight of their cameras?"

She accentuated her tirade with a sweeping motion toward the viewscreen, displaying the haunting aftermath in still-frame. "Observe the devastation they've caused! What weak justification could ever excuse such reckless destruction?"

The thralls flinched, exchanging terrified looks as Gisela stalked between their consoles like a panther among rabbits. One particularly hapless young man shrank back as she loomed over him, fangs bared in a silent snarl.

"W-We don't know, Mistress," he stammered, unable to meet her scorching glare. "The wizards haven't released any statements yet..."

Gisela's lip curled in disgust, and she turned away with a scornful sneer. "Of course not. Why should we expect transparency from those arrogant fools?"

Pivoting sharply on one heel, she pinned the thrall with a razor-edged stare. "Then perhaps you'd care to enlighten me as to the scale of this catastrophe? Exactly how many humans perished in that... display?"

The man swallowed hard, clearly fighting against his body's instinctive urge to flee. Licking dry lips, he forced himself to meet her gaze as he replied.

"O-Our analysts estimate no less than forty-five thousand casualties from the initial attack and its aftermath, Mistress." His voice cracked faintly as Gisela's eyes narrowed to slits. "With an additional five thousand injured or displaced, m-most likely..."

Gisela's delicate features contorted in a snarl of cold fury, fangs protruding as she rounded on the nearest thrall. The poor man flinched, shrinking back against his console as she loomed over him.

"Do you have any conception of the damage this has wrought?" she hissed, flecks of spittle flying from her lips. "The chaos that will follow as the humans demand answers for this atrocity?"

The thrall could only stammer incoherently, frozen by the naked menace in his mistress's eyes. Gisela's lip curled in disgust, and she straightened, turning away from his pitiful display.

"No... Of course you don't," she sneered, raking a hand through her disturbed raven hair. "You're but pathetic cattle, after all. Incapable of comprehending the full consequences."

Pacing between the consoles once more, Gisela allowed her thoughts to spin outward. The implications of this disaster reached far beyond just the immediate loss of life.

Once the humans realized the existence of true magic, their fragile societies would quickly turn to anarchy. Fear and panic would consume them - fear of that which they could not understand or control. And inevitably, their terror would curdle into hatred and violence toward anything even remotely supernatural.

A great Purge was all but inevitable now. The humans would lash out blindly, seeking to exterminate all traces of magic from their midst through whatever means proved necessary. Reason and restraint would be the first casualties in the face of such primal, visceral terror.

And the Zykrvitz Clan - along with all vampiric kind - would undoubtedly become priority targets for elimination once the humans discovered their existence. Their need to feed and inherent powers would be deemed an existential threat to humanity's continued dominance.

Even if the humans were hopelessly outmatched against the power of vampires, wizards and more, sheer numbers could prove an existential threat if provoked. Millions upon millions of frenzied ants could potentially overwhelm even the mightiest predators through sheer, mindless persistence.

And that assumed the wizards themselves didn't turn on her kind the moment the humans' wrath shifted in their direction. Wizards had little love for vampires - they would happily sacrifice them to preserve their own secrecy if needed.

Her people's very way of life - their freedom to hunt and indulge as they pleased - could be stripped away in one fell swoop. All because of some idiot wizard's blatant disregard for secrecy.

Her crimson gaze hardened to flint as she turned back to face her assembled subordinates. They flinched instinctively, no doubt sensing the cold resolution that emanated from her like an Arctic wind.

"Enough speculation," Gisela stated flatly, drawing the sheer robe tighter around her curvaceous form. "Facts are what matter now. I want to know exactly who was responsible for this unforgivable breach. Do your best to figure it out."

The vampires and thralls exchanged uneasy looks, but none dared voice objections. A few tapped furiously at their consoles, no doubt already setting their information networks into motion.

As a last resort, her people could always retreat to their hidden lairs and sanctuaries, reverting to their bat forms to elude any potential human threat. But that was no way for vampires to truly live - scurrying like vermin, forever hunted.

oo0ooOoo0oo

The familiar compression of Apparition released Somchai Phothisan with a muted pop amidst the makeshift command post. His eyes immediately found the grisly scene of the Spanish squad member, Alejandro, laid out on a conjured stretcher.

The young wizard's face was ashen, his teeth gritted against the obvious agony radiating from the bloody stump where his left leg used to be. Two of the American Auxiliaries worked feverishly, applying tourniquets and force-feeding blood-replenishing potions in a desperate attempt to stabilize him.

"Dios mío..." Alejandro's voice was a ragged croak as he fought the waves of pain and shock. "It hurts...it hurts so much..."

"Phothisan!" The barked reprimand made him stiffen instinctively. Squad Leader Adjaye strode towards him, displeasure etched in the Ghanaian wizard's lined features. "You're the last one in. What took you so long getting clear of the operation zone?"

Somchai resisted the urge to fidget under his superior's piercing scowl. "Forgive me, sir. I noticed a Muggle aircraft circling nearby and took steps to ensure there were no potential witnesses."

Adjaye's expression shifted from one of irritation to sudden, blanching apprehension. "A Muggle aircraft, you say?" He grabbed Somchai by the shoulders with surprising strength for his wiry frame. "Describe it to me. Now."

Taken aback by the intensity in the older wizard's gaze, Somchai stammered briefly before replying. "Y-Yes, sir. It was one of those flying machines with spinning blades on top. A...a helicopter, I believe the Muggles call them?"

"A helicopter?" Adjaye's eyes narrowed dangerously. He gave Somchai a small shake, as if to jolt his senses. "Are you absolutely certain about that?"

Somchai opened his mouth, then closed it, suddenly less sure under his superior's intense scrutiny. "I...well, it was a flying machine with spinning blades, like I said. And there were Muggles inside..."

"Describe them," Adjaye demanded. "What were they doing? What did you see?"

Licking his dry lips nervously, Somchai tried to recall every detail. "There were three of them. One was operating the controls, another was...was holding some kind of device and looking through a glass opening. And the third..."

His brow furrowed as the memory resurfaced. "The third one was speaking into some sort of...rod, I suppose? And gesturing out the open door toward the ruins below."

Adjaye's grip on Somchai's shoulders tightened until it was almost painful. "A microphone," he hissed through gritted teeth. "That Muggle was speaking into a bloody microphone."

Somchai's brow furrowed in confusion. Microphone? He knew that was some kind of Muggle device, but the significance escaped him. "I...I don't understand, sir. What does that have to do with anything?"

Adjaye's eyes narrowed dangerously as he studied the younger wizard. Slowly, as if speaking to a particularly dull child, he ground out, "That 'rod' you saw him holding? It allows Muggles to transmit their voices over long distances instantaneously."

The realization began to dawn on Somchai, but he still didn't quite grasp the full implications. "You mean...like some sort of long-range communication? But I don't see how..."

"Open your eyes, Phothisan!" Adjaye gave him a hard shake, his frustration boiling over. "That Muggle wasn't just speaking into it - he was narrating everything he saw to some unknown audience! Describing the entire magical operation in detail as it happened!"

Somchai felt like he'd been punched in the gut. It all clicked into place now - the gesturing out the open door, the device the second Muggle held towards his direction...

"They were broadcasting," he whispered, aghast. "Sending images and voices of our battle with that...that thing to Merlin knows how many people!"

"Precisely." Adjaye released him with a disgusted shove, making Somchai stumble backwards a step. The squad leader raked a hand through his thinning grey hair, his expression caught between fury and dismay.

"You mean to tell me you've lived this long without understanding Muggle television and radio broadcasts?" He laughed bitterly. "Unbelievable. Centuries of secrecy, potentially compromised because one wizard chose to remain ignorant of the non-magical world!"

The weight of Adjaye's words seemed to suck the air from Somchai's lungs. "They saw everything," he whispered, feeling numb with horrified realization. "The entire operation against that thing, the squads on broomsticks...my attempt to obliviate them..."

Adjaye's jaw tightened, the cords in his neck standing out like steel cables. "Yes, Phothisan. They saw it all. And your idiot attempt to obliviate them, without even waiting for trained Obliviators?" He uttered a mirthless bark of laughter. "That just confirmed beyond all doubt to any observers that magic is real!"

The other squad members had gone deathly silent, their faces reflecting the same dawning apprehension as Somchai. What had begun as righteous anger towards his foolish breach of protocols had rapidly spiralled into a full-blown crisis.

"Sir..." One of the American Auxiliaries spoke up hesitantly. "If that footage was broadcast live across the Muggle world..."

"Then we have a catastrophic break of the International Statute of Secrecy on our hands," Adjaye finished grimly.

The Ghanaian's fist clenched spasmodically at his sides, and for a terrifying moment Somchai feared he might strike him. But then Adjaye seemed to forcibly master himself through an immense act of willpower.

"We need to report this disaster to HQ immediately," he grated out through gritted teeth. "They'll have to coordinate emergency obliviations and disinformation on a massive scale to control the fallout."

Adjaye fixed Somchai with a look of pure disgust and contempt. "As for you, Phothisan...you'll be disciplined. Severely."

Shoulders slumped, Somchai could only nod miserably as the other squad members' furious mutterings washed over him in a tide of shame. He'd made a terrible mistake, one that could potentially expose the entire wizarding world.

And there was no way to obliviate something that had already been broadcast live across the planet.