The morning sun filtered through the thick layers of grime coating the shattered windows of the derelict train station. Dust danced in the golden light like restless spirits, stirred by the faint breath of wind that found its way underground. Dray Ballack knelt in silence on the cracked tile floor, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the system screen hovering before him.
Name: Dray Ballack
Bloodline: Locked
Race: Human (???)
Level: 5
Class: None
Strength: 6
Agility: 7
Endurance: 2
Vitality: 5
Skills:
• Night Adaptation (Passive)
• Blood Sense (Passive – Incomplete)
• Blood Echo (Passive)
Inventory:
• Broken Pipe (1)
• Rusted Circuit Knife (1)
System Shop: [Access Granted – Insufficient Permissions for Purchase]
Next Level: 100 EXP
Status: Stable
A soft chime echoed in his mind, drawing his gaze to the section titled Class. There was a faint lock symbol next to it, with a dim message hovering beneath:
Class selection available at Level 10.
Dray frowned. So he wasn't ready yet.
That answer came as a disappointment—yet also a relief. It meant he could prepare, gather strength, and learn more about the path ahead before committing to anything permanent. With a deep breath, he stood.
His steps echoed through the hollow corridors of the lower tunnels. Every surface was coated in time: thick dust, rusted bolts, cables frayed and hanging like the tendrils of forgotten machines. The air was stale but breathable. The deeper he went, the more it felt like descending into a tomb rather than a network of abandoned infrastructure.
He followed a map scrawled into the back of an old scavenger's manual he'd found beside a long-dead corpse. The map bore a symbol he hadn't seen before—a crimson triangle surrounding a single eye, the same symbol that had appeared momentarily during the Blood Echo activation in the prior ruins.
The whispers had started again.
"Don't look back."
"They're watching from within."
"The blood remembers."
Faint. Haunting. Only when his thoughts drifted too far, or his heart beat too loudly, did they return.
It was unclear if they were remnants of a broken mind, or fragments of something deeper. The system hadn't classified them. And that silence unnerved him more than their presence.
Three hours into the trek, he reached what the map described as The Pulse Well.
It wasn't a well. It was a chamber.
Large, spherical, buried under a dome of shattered solar panels and forgotten data cores. At its center, a pulsing cylinder of light hovered, humming with energy. Ancient technology—pre-Exodus era, older than Earth's last global conflict.
But what drew Dray's attention wasn't the machine.
It was the silhouette standing just behind it.
He froze. His hand instinctively reached for his rusted knife.
The figure didn't move.
The system remained silent.
He took a step forward.
"You're late," a voice whispered.
The figure turned. Not fully—just enough for Dray to see the face. Female. Mid-thirties. Her eyes glowed softly, not red like his own would eventually become, but silver. Not a vampire.
Something else.
"Do you know what this place is?" she asked.
Dray shook his head.
"It's a transmitter. One of the few left. The only one I know that still works."
"Transmit what?" he asked.
"Signals. Warnings. Distress calls. History."
She walked forward slowly, boots crunching on broken glass.
"They erased everything, Dray Ballack. The ones who betrayed the emperor. They scrubbed the stars clean. But some things linger."
"Who are you?"
She smiled sadly.
"Someone who still believes in what the emperor stood for. In what his bloodline could bring."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a data chip. It shimmered like polished obsidian.
"When the time comes, use this. Not now. You're not ready. But when the stars start whispering louder, when your skin burns in places without flame, plug it into the system. It will guide you."
She placed it in his palm and stepped back.
"Wait, how do you know about—"
But she was gone.
No sound. No system alert. No trace.
He was alone again.
He left The Pulse Well and continued through the tunnels, his thoughts swirling.
Everything was becoming more connected. The whispers. The system. The bloodline.
And now this stranger.
Back on the surface, dusk was creeping in.
Dray emerged from a rusted hatch in the underbelly of the city. He hadn't noticed it before, but he was near the old military zones. Places walled off from public access for decades. Automated defenses long dormant.
Or so he thought.
As he crept through the ruins, he triggered a motion sensor.
Turrets unfolded from the walls. Red lasers locked on.
Warning: Danger Detected
Activating Combat Mode
Temporary Boost: +1 Agility
Dray ducked and ran, zigzagging through ruined barracks and collapsed watchtowers. Bolts tore through the air. One singed his arm. Another grazed his leg. But he didn't stop.
He leapt over a fallen mech frame and into a shattered bunker entrance. The turrets retracted, unable to fire past the blast walls.
Inside, panting, bleeding, he collapsed.
-10 HP
Status: Lightly Wounded
The system chimed again.
New Location Unlocked: Dominion Bunker E7-Black
+15 EXP
Still not enough to level up.
But closer.
He crawled into the back chamber. It was dark, but dry. And quiet.
He took out the obsidian chip.
Its surface was etched with the same crimson triangle.
He didn't plug it in.
Not yet.
Instead, he stared at the interface one more time.
Name: Dray Ballack
Bloodline: Locked
Race: Human (???)
Level: 5
Class: None
Strength: 6
Agility: 7
Endurance: 2
Vitality: 5
Skills:
• Night Adaptation (Passive)
• Blood Sense (Passive – Incomplete)
• Blood Echo (Passive)
Inventory:
• Broken Pipe (1)
• Rusted Circuit Knife (1)
• Obsidian Data Chip (1)
System Shop: [Access Granted – Insufficient Permissions for Purchase]
Next Level: 45 EXP
Status: Lightly Wounded
He closed his eyes, listening.
And for the first time...
The whispers were silent.