The sun had long vanished behind a blanket of thick grey clouds, casting an eerie chill over Whitmoor. Trees whispered secrets to the wind, and shadows stretched far longer than they should have. But in the depths of the abandoned chapel on campus
something ancient stirred.
Alex dropped to his knees, coughing, his body convulsing with every pulse of whatever had awakened inside him. Blood leaked from his nose. His eyes—once bright blue—flashed with violent streaks of red and black. His fingernails had lengthened into small claws, barely noticeable, but sharp enough to draw blood when he gripped the cold stone floor.
"Alex!" Adam shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder, but quickly yanked his hand back as a sudden heat seared through Alex's skin. "What the hell is happening to you?"
Alex's voice came out low, guttural. "I don't… I don't know. It's burning."
Symbols on the chapel walls began to glow in crimson and gold. The candles that had sat dormant for years ignited with violent flames, as though summoned by something ancient and furious. Mr. Sabastin had warned them about going further—but Alex had pushed forward anyway. Now, they had trespassed into the chamber of the first blood.
Suddenly, something moved behind them.
A growl.
Low.
Echoing.
And far too close.
Adam turned, his eyes wide, just in time to see a shape detach itself from the shadows—tall, humanoid, but with stretched limbs, white skin slicked in places with rot and decay. Its eyes—glowing with a dull, ancient red—locked onto Alex.
"What is that?!" Adam whispered, reaching instinctively into his jacket for the makeshift blade he had stolen from Sabastin's desk.
Alex was still trembling, his skin cold and wet with sweat. "I don't know," he whispered, but something deep inside him did. The creature was no stranger. It was a Warden of the Vault—a guardian bound by blood magic to eliminate intruders and silence secrets.
The creature lunged.
Adam tackled Alex out of the way just in time, the creature's claws scraping across stone, leaving a trail of sparks. Alex hit the ground hard, his vision blurring. But just as the creature turned to attack again, something inside him snapped.
Heat surged.
Power flared.
And in a single breath, Alex stood.
His eyes now fully red, with the black sigil of the Blood Monarch glowing faintly on his chest. He raised a hand instinctively—and the ground beneath the creature exploded in a burst of red light. The beast shrieked, caught in a fiery cyclone of blood and magic.
Adam stumbled back, shocked. "What… what did you just do?!"
"I don't know," Alex muttered, though it was clear something had taken control. "But it feels like… like I've done it before."
The creature, smoking and half-crippled, crawled toward them, dragging one twisted limb. Alex stepped forward, unafraid now. His voice echoed with layered tones—like he was speaking with someone else's voice, buried inside his own.
"You are no longer needed," Alex whispered.
He thrust his palm forward.
The creature burst into flames and disintegrated.
Ash fell like snow.
Silence returned—but it was heavy, unnatural. Not peaceful. As if something greater had just been summoned.
Adam stared at his best friend, unsure whether to run or help. "You're not Alex anymore… are you?"
"I am," Alex said, his voice softening. "But something inside me… it's awake now."
From the far wall of the chamber, the sealed vault began to shake.
Cracks split across its surface.
Adam's eyes widened. "Tell me that's not opening."
Alex clenched his fists, breathing heavily. "I didn't do anything."
And yet the vault door groaned open, revealing a staircase descending into blackness.
From deep below, a voice echoed up to them. Not loud, but so heavy it pressed against their bones.
"Welcome home, heir of blood."
Alex's blood ran cold. He backed away. "We have to go. Now."
Adam didn't argue.
They ran—through the glowing corridors, past the burning candles, out into the cold air of the night. But even as they escaped the chapel, Alex could feel it.
Something was following them.
Something had seen him.
Later that night, in the safety of Adam's room, Alex stood in front of the mirror. His shirt off, the blood sigil on his chest now completely visible—glowing faintly in the dark. His eyes had returned to blue, but the damage was done.
His destiny was no longer a mystery.
He had awakened something tied to his bloodline. Something ancient.
He wasn't just a hybrid anymore.
He was a key.
A weapon.
A threat.
And far below the earth, in the catacombs beneath Whitmoor, the real Blood Monarch—the one imprisoned for centuries—opened his eyes with a cruel smile.
"The boy has awakened," he whispered. "The game begins."