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As the sun rises fully, a wave of exhaustion crashes over Brujah. The Kindred were not meant to remain awake during daylight hours, and he looks around frantically for anywhere safe to rest.

There's an old metal-topped freezer beside a counter, just big enough to hold him and sealed against sunlight. Inching around the shafts of daylight filtering through the open window and gaps in the boards, he wrenches the freezer open. It smells like expired milk, but there's no time to worry about that now.

He drops into the freezer and pulls the lid shut.

In the darkness, he mentally inventories all the things he needs to worry about: his ruined car, the aching Hunger in his gums, the smell of fresh blood somewhere in the building, and the strange eagle.

He may not survive another night. But he survived this one. He survived the cruel ambitions of his sire, Pattermuster. He eluded the assassins that came to destroy both of them. And he survived out here in the desert for years, one night at a time. Brujah permits himself a tight little smile. He can still make it. He can still find a way out of this.

And then the blackness of the day-sleep swallows him.

---

**Next Chapter**

The sun sets, pulling Brujah from the oppressive grip of day-sleep. The freezer is stifling, but he forces the lid open and emerges, stiff and disoriented. The smell of expired milk clings to his clothes, but it's the least of his concerns. The building is silent, but he remains on high alert, every sense sharpened.

Brujah knows he needs to find the source of the blood he smelled earlier. His Hunger gnaws at him, making it difficult to think clearly. Moving cautiously, he explores the building, following the faint scent. It leads him to a small, hidden room at the back of the station. Inside, he finds a young woman, unconscious and bound to a chair. Her wrists are cut, and fresh blood seeps from the wounds.

He approaches her cautiously, torn between the desperate need to feed and the nagging sense of unease. The situation feels like a trap. He reaches out, touching her neck to check for a pulse. She's alive, but barely. Brujah hesitates, then bites into her neck, drinking deeply. The rush of blood floods his senses, momentarily dulling the Hunger and clearing his mind.

As he finishes, he hears a soft rustling behind him. He spins around, ready for a fight, but instead, he finds Selene standing there, her eyes wide with concern.

"Brujah, we need to move. The werewolves are getting closer. I found a car we can use, but we have to go now."

He nods, wiping the blood from his lips. "Let's go."

They make their way to the car, a battered but functional vehicle hidden behind the station. Brujah takes the driver's seat, and they speed off into the night, leaving the abandoned building and the strange eagle behind. As they drive, Selene briefs him on their next steps.

"We need to reach the sanctuary marked on the map. It's our only chance to regroup and plan a counterattack. The werewolves won't stop until we're all dead."

Brujah nods, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The road ahead is long and perilous, but he feels a renewed sense of determination. They've survived this far, and they will continue to fight, one night at a time.

The journey is fraught with danger, but Brujah and Selene are prepared. They navigate through treacherous terrain, avoiding werewolf patrols and other threats. The map leads them deeper into the wilderness, to an ancient forest that seems untouched by time.

As they approach the sanctuary, a sense of hope fills Brujah. This place holds the key to their survival, a chance to end the war and find peace. They reach the entrance, a hidden door carved into the side of a massive tree. Brujah pushes it open, and they step inside, greeted by the welcoming sight of their fellow vampires, waiting and ready for the battles to come.

Together, they will fight for their future, for their kind. The night belongs to them, and they will reclaim it, one victory at a time.

. **Chapter Two: Into the Sunset**

Arizona, I-10 heading west.

Night of November 2.

Sunrise: 6:42 a.m.

If anyone had found Brujah that day in the disused freezer, they would see only a disheveled corpse. And while the sun is in the sky, that's all he is.

The blood he got back in El Paso, before he hopped in his Honda, awakens the moment the sun sets. The return to consciousness is instantaneous and agonizing. He opens his eyes in blackness. His limbs are still heavy, as if crushed by the weight of the sun. As he waits, he thinks about the Camarilla and remembers what the elders made him do to crawl back into their good graces.

---

The road stretches out endlessly before them, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the Arizona desert. Brujah grips the steering wheel tightly, his mind a whirl of memories and plans. Selene sits beside him, the map to the sanctuary clutched in her hands. The ancient forest they seek is still miles away, but each passing moment brings them closer.

Brujah's thoughts drift back to the Camarilla, the powerful vampire sect that once controlled his every move. He had been their enforcer, their weapon, until a failed mission saw him cast out, disgraced. The elders had demanded a penance, acts so brutal they still haunt him. He had done what was necessary to survive, to regain their favor, but the cost had been his soul.

A sudden movement on the side of the road snaps him back to the present. A group of werewolves are gathered near an abandoned truck, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. Brujah presses down on the accelerator, speeding past them. The werewolves give chase, their snarls echoing through the night.

Selene looks over at him, her face set with determination. "We can't outrun them for long. We need to find cover."

Brujah nods, scanning the horizon. Up ahead, he spots a narrow dirt road leading into the hills. He swerves onto it, the Honda bouncing over the uneven terrain. The werewolves follow, relentless in their pursuit.

As they climb higher into the hills, the trees grow denser, providing some cover. Brujah maneuvers the car through the twists and turns, the engine straining with the effort. Finally, he spots an old, dilapidated cabin nestled among the trees. He pulls up to it and they jump out, racing inside just as the werewolves arrive.

The cabin is dark and musty, but it offers some protection. Brujah and Selene brace the door, knowing it won't hold for long. The werewolves howl outside, their claws scratching at the wood.

"We need to find another way out," Selene says, her voice tense.

Brujah nods, his mind racing. He spots a trapdoor in the corner of the cabin and pulls it open. "Down here," he says, motioning for Selene to go first.

They descend into a narrow, dirt tunnel, the sound of the werewolves' attacks growing fainter as they move deeper underground. The tunnel twists and turns, leading them further away from the cabin and the pursuing pack.

After what feels like hours, they emerge into a small, hidden valley. The ancient forest looms ahead, its trees towering and silent. They have reached the sanctuary.

Brujah and Selene make their way to the entrance, the massive trees parting to reveal a hidden doorway. They step inside, greeted by the sight of their fellow vampires, waiting and ready for the battles to come.

As they regroup, Brujah feels a renewed sense of purpose. The sanctuary represents more than just safety; it is a place where they can plan their counterattack, where they can finally turn the tide against the werewolves and the Camarilla.

The night is far from over, but Brujah knows they are one step closer to victory. The war is not yet won, but with the sanctuary as their base, they have a fighting chance. Together, they will reclaim their place in the world, one battle at a time.