Vlad moved through the stronghold, walking among the soldiers, sharing words, smiles, and brief moments of camaraderie. Laughter and celebration followed in his wake, his presence lifting spirits with a simple nod or look. Though he had ascended to an extraordinary level of power, with the might that surpassed hydrogen bombs and with a lifespan now measured in the hundreds of thousands of years, Vlad had not forgotten his roots. He knew how easy it was for beings like him to lose touch with those they led, to become detached from the mortals who bled in their name.
And so, he walked among them—not as a god, but as a commander. As one of them.
It was only after hours had passed, after he had moved through nearly the entire stronghold, that Vlad silently slipped away, vanishing through a network of hidden passages beneath the fortress. These paths led him deep underground, far below the main chambers, where no celebration could be heard.
