Last Call at the Veil

The bathroom mirror at The Veil was cracked in one corner and fogged from the last customer’s shower, but it still did its job.

Sophia stared at her reflection as she washed her hands, taking a rare moment to really look at herself.

She was still beautiful — she knew that much. 5'7" with a pronounced hourglass figure that no amount of baggy hoodies could fully hide. Her breasts were full and heavy, sitting high on her chest at a natural D-cup, straining against the tight black blouse of her bartender uniform. The narrow cinch of her waist flared out into wide, fertile hips and a thick, toned ass that made the short black skirt ride up no matter how many times she tugged it down. Fishnets clung to her long, smooth legs, disappearing into scuffed combat boots.

Her long, wavy dark brown hair — with natural copper highlights that caught the light like embers — was pulled up into a messy ponytail, a few rebellious strands framing her face. Her most striking feature was her eyes: a rich amber-gold that seemed to glow faintly when she was emotional or using her powers. She hated how noticeable they were. Tonight she’d kept them carefully downcast.

She looked like a perfectly normal, attractive bartender in her mid-twenties.

Exactly what she needed people to see.

Sophia sighed, adjusting the deep neckline of her blouse so it showed just enough cleavage to get decent tips, but not enough to invite trouble. Five years of hiding had taught her the delicate balance.

“Time to close up,” she muttered to her reflection, forcing a tired but friendly smile. “One more hour and you can go home, Soph.”

She turned off the light and stepped back out into the dimly lit bar. Five years of hiding in plain sight had taught her the value of routine. Smile. Pour. Listen. Never draw attention.

Earlier in the night she’d had to step in once — just once. Some drunk asshole had started slapping his ex-girlfriend around in the alley out back. Sophia had slipped out, wrapped the entire alley in thick shadow, and knocked him out with a solid light construct to the jaw. The woman had thanked her through tears and run. Sophia had returned to the bar like nothing happened.

She was getting good at pretending to be normal.

Now the clock on the wall read 2:47 a.m. Only one customer left. A plain-looking woman in an oversized gray sweatshirt sat at the far end of the bar, nursing what had to be her fourth drink. Messy blonde hair, bovine ears hidden under a beanie, a little too curvy for the baggy clothes she wore. She looked harmless. Tipsy. Friendly.

“Last call, sweetheart,” Sophia said with her best customer-service smile. “Finish up and I’ll get you a cab if you need one.”

The woman giggled — bubbly and sweet. “Aww, you’re so nice~ Just one more sip, okay?”

She lifted her glass… and promptly toppled it.

“Shit—” Sophia muttered. Without thinking, instinct took over. A flicker of shadow and light swirled from her fingertips. The falling glass froze mid-air surrounded by a semi-transparent ball of shadow, then gently floated back up and settled on the bar unharmed, the spilled drink vanishing as if it had never happened.

She froze. The woman at the bar was staring right at her. For half a second, Sophia hoped she was too drunk to notice.

Then everything went wrong.

A blur of electric blue lightning flashed behind her. Something cold and metallic snapped around her neck with a cruel click. The suppressor collar hummed to life instantly. Sophia gasped as her connection to her magic was violently severed — like someone had slammed a steel door on her soul.

Her powers were gone.

She spun around, heart hammering, only to see the “drunk” woman standing perfectly steady, grinning with an almost manic, bubbly excitement. The beanie was gone, revealing cute bovine ears. A cow tail swished happily behind her.

“Master! I did it! Did I do good?” the woman cooed, voice dripping with eager adoration.

The front door of the bar opened.

A tall man in dark tactical gear stepped inside, rain dripping from his shoulders. His steel-gray eyes locked onto Sophia immediately. He moved with calm, predatory confidence.

“Well done, Verdant,” he said, voice smooth and low. “Excellent work.”

He walked straight up to Sophia, who was still frozen in shock, one hand uselessly clawing at the suppressor collar.

The man studied her for a moment, then smiled — slow, dark, and genuinely pleased.

“Sophia Reyes,” he said. “Also known as Eclipse. Nice to finally meet you.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cloth soaked in something sweet and chemical.

Sophia tried to back away, but Verdant was suddenly behind her, strong arms wrapping around her waist with surprising strength, pressing her four massive breasts against Sophia’s back.

“No— wait—!”

The man gently pressed the chloroform cloth over her mouth and nose.

“Welcome to the collection,” he murmured as the world started to blur and tilt. “I’m Overlord Traps. And you… are going to be magnificent.”

Sophia’s vision swam. Her knees buckled.

The last thing she heard was Verdant’s bubbly, happy voice:

“Yay! Master gets another pretty toy~”

Then everything went black.