Night settled over the Underground, though there was little difference in the artificial lighting of the subterranean community. As the residents retired to their sleeping quarters, Viktor found himself alone with his thoughts. Elena had fallen asleep hours ago, her breathing now deep and regur, but sleep was a luxury vampires rarely needed.

  He sat motionless on his cot, listening to the heartbeats around him gradually slow as people drifted into unconsciousness. The predator in him noted how vulnerable they all were, but another part—the part that had been strengthened by Elena's blood—pushed back against those instincts.

  To distract himself, Viktor slipped silently from their quarters. The corridors were dimly lit at night to conserve power, but his enhanced vision needed no assistance. He made his way back to the electrical junction boxes he'd noticed earlier, drawn by both professional curiosity and the need for purpose.

  The wiring was even worse than he'd initially thought. Previous repairs had been made by well-meaning but untrained hands, creating a patchwork of potential hazards. He traced the power flow mentally, identifying at least three critical weaknesses that could cause fires or outages.

  "Can't sleep either?"

  Viktor turned to find Captain Rivera approaching, a fshlight in his hand. Viktor quickly adjusted his posture to appear more human—a slight shift of weight, a simuted breathing pattern.

  "Head injuries affect my sleep patterns," Viktor expined, gesturing toward the electrical panel. "I noticed some issues with your wiring."

  Rivera's expression remained suspicious, but practical concerns won out. "You know something about electrical systems?"

  "I specialized in medical research," Viktor said, maintaining their cover story. "But my undergraduate work was in electrical engineering. I could improve this setup, make it safer and more efficient."

  Rivera studied him for a long moment. "We lost our st engineer three months ago. Went out on a supply run, never came back."

  "I'm sorry to hear that."

  "Show me what you'd fix," Rivera challenged.

  Viktor carefully pointed out the overloaded circuits, improper grounding, and inefficient power distribution. He kept his expnations technical but comprehensible, drawing on knowledge that had once been central to his human identity.

  Rivera's stance gradually rexed as Viktor's expertise became apparent. "You could work on this tomorrow."

  "I'd prefer nights," Viktor suggested. "My light sensitivity makes daytime activities difficult, and I don't sleep much anyway. Less disruption to your operations."

  Rivera considered this, then nodded. "I'll have tools brought to you. But I'll be checking your work."

  "I would expect nothing less, Captain."

  After Rivera left, Viktor began a more thorough assessment of the electrical systems. For the first time since his transformation, he found himself engaged in a task that connected to his human past—not the medical research that had led to catastrophe, but earlier work that had once given him simple satisfaction.

  When morning came, Elena found him sketching electrical diagrams on scrap paper.

  "You were gone when I woke up," she said, her tone carefully neutral but her eyes asking the unspoken question: Did you feed?

  "Cognitive function optimal," Viktor replied, using their newly established code. "I've been examining the electrical systems. Rivera has authorized me to make repairs."

  Elena's eyebrows rose. "That was quick."

  "Necessity overcomes suspicion, it seems." Viktor showed her his diagrams. "Their power distribution is dangerously inefficient. I can improve it substantially."

  "The night engineer," Elena said with a small smile, echoing her words from the previous evening.

  Viktor nodded, a hint of animation in his features that Elena hadn't seen before. "It's... good to have a purpose beyond survival."

  Over the next three days, a routine emerged. Elena spent her daylight hours at the medical station, treating everything from minor injuries to chronic conditions with limited supplies. Her expertise quickly reestablished her standing in the community, and she gathered valuable information about the Underground's operations and needs.

  Viktor slept minimally during the day, conserving energy and avoiding unnecessary interaction. As darkness fell and activity decreased, he would emerge to work on the electrical systems, gradually implementing his improvements with salvaged materials and improvised tools.

  On the fourth night, as Viktor rewired a critical junction box, he became aware of being watched. He turned to find a young girl, perhaps nine years old, observing him with unabashed curiosity.

  "You're supposed to be asleep," he said, keeping his voice gentle despite his instinctive wariness around children. Their heartbeats were faster, their blood more oxygen-rich—facts his predatory senses couldn't ignore.

  "I can't sleep when the pipes make noise," she expined matter-of-factly. "What are you doing?"

  Viktor hesitated, then decided simple truth was best. "Fixing the electrical system so it works better and doesn't cause fires."

  "Can I watch?"

  The request surprised him. Children had generally been kept away from him, whether by chance or design. "Does your mother know you're wandering the tunnels at night?"

  "Dad," she corrected. "He's on night guard shift. He knows I sometimes walk around when I can't sleep."

  Viktor nodded slowly. "You can watch if you're quiet and stay back there. These wires can be dangerous."

  The girl—who introduced herself as Lily—settled cross-legged at a safe distance. Viktor returned to his work, uncomfortably aware of her steady gaze and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat.

  "Why do you wear those gsses inside?" Lily asked after several minutes of silence.

  "My eyes are sensitive to light," Viktor replied, the practiced lie coming easily.

  "Because of your head injury?"

  "Yes."

  "Does it hurt?"

  Viktor paused in his work, considering the question. "Not anymore."

  Lily nodded sagely. "My dad got hurt when the bad things came. He says sometimes it still hurts inside even when the outside is better."

  The simple insight struck Viktor with unexpected force. "Your dad is a wise man."

  As he continued working, Viktor found himself expining basic electrical concepts in response to Lily's persistent questions. He simplified complex principles into terms a child could understand, drawing diagrams in the dust on the floor. To his surprise, he found the interaction less taxing than anticipated. The teacher in him—a part he'd thought lost to the transformation—responded to her genuine curiosity.

  From the shadows of a nearby corridor, Elena watched the scene unfold. She'd come searching for Viktor after waking to find him gone again, concerned about his hunger management. Instead, she found him patiently expining electrical currents to a wide-eyed child, his gestures animated in a way she rarely saw.

  The sight shifted something in her perception of him. Not a monster with exceptional control, but a man—a teacher, an engineer, a person with a past and skills and gentleness that had somehow survived the virus that should have stripped them away.

  When Lily finally grew tired and left to find her father, Elena approached.

  "You're good with children," she observed, joining him by the junction box.

  Viktor's hands stilled. "I taught undergraduates before specializing in research. Not quite children, but simir enthusiasm with longer attention spans."

  "You never mentioned teaching."

  "There are many things from before that I..." He trailed off, reconnecting a wire with careful precision. "It's easier not to remember sometimes."

  Elena handed him a tool he'd been reaching for. "And now?"

  "Now I find myself remembering more. Since your blood." He gnced at her. "Glucose levels moderate, by the way."

  She nodded, understanding his coded message about hunger. "We should join a scavenging team tomorrow. Get you outside."

  Viktor secured a panel before responding. "Rivera asked me to check the water filtration system tomorrow night. Apparently it's connected to some of these circuits."

  "I'll make arrangements then. Medical supplies are running low—I can volunteer us for a brief excursion."

  Their coordination had become seamless, a partnership built on mutual understanding and shared secrets. As they walked back to their quarters, Elena found herself studying Viktor's profile in the dim light, seeing the man more clearly than the vampire.

  The following days brought further refinements to their routine. Breakfast in the communal area became a practiced performance—Elena eating normally while Viktor rearranged food on his pte, taking minimal bites when observed and disposing of the rest discreetly. They developed subtle signals and code phrases that allowed them to communicate vital information in public.

  "Neural pathways showing decreased efficiency," Viktor might murmur, indicating rising hunger.

  "Perhaps we should adjust the treatment protocol," Elena would respond, suggesting a pn to address the situation.

  Viktor's work on the electrical systems gained him quiet appreciation among the residents. Power flowed more reliably, lighting was more consistent, and critical systems operated more efficiently. The "night engineer" became a recognized, if somewhat mysterious, presence in the community.

  More children discovered him during his evening work sessions, drawn by curiosity about the quiet man who fixed things in the shadows. To Elena's continued surprise, Viktor showed remarkable patience with them, answering questions and offering simple expnations of his work. Though he maintained a careful physical distance, his interactions showed none of the predatory tension she might have expected.

  "They don't fear me," he expined when she asked about it one evening in their quarters. "Children perceive threats differently than adults. They sense no danger because I'm deliberately projecting none."

  "Is that difficult?" Elena asked, genuinely curious. "Being around them with their..."

  "Faster metabolism? Stronger pulses?" Viktor finished when she hesitated. "Yes and no. Their blood calls more strongly to the predator in me, but their innocence appeals to what remains of my humanity. The conflict creates a strange bance."

  A week into their stay, they established a comfortable evening ritual. After dinner and Viktor's night work, they would return to their quarters to share research notes and theories. With the door securely closed and voices kept low, Elena would document observations about the Underground's medical challenges, while Viktor would contribute insights about vampire physiology that might rete to treatment possibilities.

  "I've been thinking about your blood's effect on my condition," Viktor said during one such session, once he'd verified no one could overhear them. He sat on his cot, back against the wall, a respectful distance from where Elena sat cross-legged on her own bed. "The protein markers we identified in the b might expin the enhanced healing, but not the cognitive and emotional effects."

  "Unless the cognitive changes are secondary effects of improved cellur function," Elena theorized, making notes. "Better neural transmission resulting from improved cellur metabolism."

  Viktor shook his head. "It feels more fundamental than that. Almost like your blood temporarily restores aspects of my humanity."

  They continued this way for hours, their scientific minds finding common ground in the puzzle of vampire physiology. These discussions became the highlight of their days—moments of intellectual connection that transcended their unusual circumstances.

  As they settled into their tenth night in the Underground, Viktor returned from his electrical work to find Elena already in their quarters, reviewing medical notes. He closed the door securely behind him, checking that they were truly alone.

  "Filtration system fully operational," he reported with quiet satisfaction. "Should improve water quality by thirty percent."

  Elena looked up, a genuine smile crossing her face. "The children in the east section have started calling you the 'Night Wizard.' Apparently, you making the lights stop flickering is the closest thing to magic they've seen."

  Viktor set down his tools, a hint of amusement in his expression. "A vampire known for bringing light. There's irony there."

  "How's your... condition tonight?" Elena asked, now that they were in their private space where they could speak more freely.

  "Manageable," Viktor replied, though a slight tension around his eyes suggested otherwise. "The scavenging mission tomorrow should help."

  Elena nodded, then hesitated before speaking. "I've been thinking. This pce... what we've established here..."

  "It can't st," Viktor finished for her. "You know that."

  "I know," she agreed. "But it's been... unexpectedly functional, hasn't it? Our arrangement."

  Viktor studied her for a moment. "You seem surprised by that."

  "Aren't you?" Elena challenged gently. "A vampire and a human, working together, creating something close to normal."

  "Define normal," Viktor said with a small smile.

  "Point taken."

  They psed into comfortable silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. The sounds of the Underground filtered through their door—distant conversations, water flowing through pipes, the hum of generators Viktor had optimized.

  "Would you have liked this?" Elena asked suddenly. "In your previous life. This kind of engineering work."

  Viktor considered the question seriously. "I enjoyed it once. Before research offered greater challenges and..." He paused. "Greater consequences, as it turned out."

  "You've helped these people," Elena said. "Whatever else happens, remember that."

  Viktor nodded, the simple acknowledgment carrying more weight than eborate gratitude. Their eyes met across the small room, a moment of understanding passing between them.

  They had found, in this underground sanctuary, something neither had expected—not just safety or purpose, but a partnership that made sense in a world where nothing else did. Both knew it was temporary, that their research and Keller's pursuit would eventually drive them back into the dangerous world above. But for now, in this subterranean community, they had achieved something remarkable—an adjustment to circumstances that should have been impossible.

  Tomorrow would bring new challenges. For tonight, they had their research, their pns, and the quiet comfort of each other's presence in a world gone mad.