The vault hissed.
Steam coiled around the floor like restless spirits, and the protective glyphs pulsed one final time before vanishing into the metal. Sabastin placed his palm against the center lock—five glowing points ignited in response.
"You shouldn't be here," he muttered, almost to himself. "But it's too late now."
Adam stood tense behind Alex. "What's in there?"
Sabastin didn't answer.
With a heavy groan, the vault doors split open, revealing a chamber lined with thick glass containers and ancient scrolls. A low hum filled the air, something alive and electrical, and at the heart of it all stood a massive pod—filled with dark red liquid. Suspended inside was something that looked human… but wasn't.
Alex stepped forward, drawn in like a magnet.
"That's… me?" he whispered.
"No," Sabastin said, voice tight. "That's the first."
Alex turned, startled. "The first what?"
"The first Monarch. Your ancestor. His body's long dead—but his blood remains. Preserved. Waiting."
"Why?"
Sabastin removed his glasses and wiped them slowly. "Because the vampire race was fractured when he fell. You're the only blood descendant. That pod contains what he left behind… and what you'll need to complete the transition."
Alex stared, heart pounding.
Adam leaned closer to him. "Are you really going to touch that thing?"
Alex didn't respond.
He walked toward the pod slowly, each step louder than the last. His reflection shimmered on the glass, but something strange happened—it didn't move like him. The figure inside blinked. Its eyes opened.
Dark. Crimson. Familiar.
Alex's breath caught.
"It's alive."
Sabastin nodded grimly. "In a way."
Suddenly, the pod convulsed.
A sharp hiss echoed as cracks began to spread across the glass. The fluid inside swirled violently. Lights in the lab flickered. Sabastin cursed under his breath.
"It's reacting to you—back away!"
But it was too late.
The pod exploded.
Dark red liquid burst out, soaking the room in hot, sticky mist. A gust of wind slammed Adam into a shelf. Alex hit the ground, chest heaving, ears ringing.
When he opened his eyes, the room had changed.
The lab was gone.
He was standing in a forest of bones—dark trees grew like twisted veins from the ground. Blood rained from the sky in slow droplets. And in front of him stood the Monarch.
The same figure from the pod—taller now, solid. Dressed in ancient armor. A crown of thorns rested on his head, and his eyes burned with endless time.
"You've come far," the Monarch said. "But you don't know yourself yet."
Alex tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.
"You carry my blood," the Monarch continued, stepping forward. "And with it, my burden. Do you accept it?"
"What is it?" Alex rasped.
"Power. Pain. Purpose."
The Monarch drew a sword of living bone and stabbed it into the earth. The world trembled.
"You will be hunted. Feared. But if you accept, you will awaken more than just blood. You will awaken us."
Alex clenched his fists. "Why me?"
"Because no one else can. You are the last of the line."
Then the Monarch vanished—and Alex snapped back into the lab.
He gasped.
Adam was helping him up, covered in blood-like goo.
Sabastin stared at Alex like he was seeing something divine.
"You connected to him," he said, voice shaking. "Didn't you?"
Alex didn't answer. But his eyes… they were glowing red.
"I know who I am now," he said coldly. "And I'm not hiding anymore."
The lab door burst open.
Three figures entered—dressed in all black, wearing silver-lined armor. Hunters. Armed.
"Get away from him!" one of them barked.
Sabastin raised his hands. "They're not ready for a fight!"
Too late.
The hunters opened fire—specialized UV rounds zipped through the air. One grazed Alex's shoulder and burned like acid. Adam ducked and rolled, grabbing a fire extinguisher and launching it like a missile at one of them.
Alex moved faster than he thought possible.
He blurred forward—one hunter fell, slammed against the wall with bone-cracking force. Another screamed as Alex's fist connected with his chest, sending him flying.
The third raised a stake.
Alex caught it mid-air and twisted the weapon out of his hands. "Wrong choice," he growled—and knocked him unconscious with a backhand.
Silence.
Adam coughed. "What the hell was that?!"
Alex stood in the middle of the chaos—clothes torn, red-eyed, breathing hard.
Sabastin was smiling. "The Monarch rises."
Alex turned to him. "If I'm going to survive this, I need answers. All of them."
"And you'll have them," Sabastin said. "But not here. This place is compromised."
Adam groaned. "You think?"
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Sabastin grabbed a hidden switch behind a shelf, revealing a tunnel beneath the floor.
"Come with me," he said. "It's time you saw the Court."
Alex looked at Adam.
"You with me?"
Adam gave a tired nod. "I'm too deep to back out now."
Together, they descended into the darkness below—toward the forgotten world of vampire royalty, hidden chambers, and a war centuries in the making.
And as Alex stepped into the cold, ancient halls beneath Whitmoor, he felt it fully now—like a second heartbeat.
The Monarch was no longer sleeping.
He had awakened.