Lilith
Enoch Mansion
Thornhill,
Vanker Island
Northern isle
Kingdom of Ashtarium
North American continent
December 6th 6414
I woke reluctantly, my body heavy, my mind slow to catch up with the world around me. But as my senses sharpened, I realized I was no longer in the Dungeon's suffocating dark. I was back in the room I had been staying in—within the Enoch Mansion. My memories of the event rushed back, the realization that I had being responsible for both Jen and Neil's death made me feel sick in my gut.
The familiar space around me felt different now. My vision was clearer, every detail crisp. I could hear everything: the faint rustle of the curtains, the quiet hum of the world outside… and the subtle, careful breath of someone seated beside me, trying their best not to disturb me.
I turned my head and met Sanders' gaze. He sat in his usual black attire, his posture formal, as always. But his crimson eyes—they watched me with an intensity I hadn't seen before.
Instinctively, my hand rose to my chin. The scar that had always been there beneath my lower lip—the small, constant reminder of something I had never fully understood—was gone. In its place, my fingers traced the edges of something new. The Mark. The Runic brand that now claimed me.
"Those eyes of yours have finally embraced the darkness," Sanders said, his voice cool and unreadable. I didn't respond. I just kept staring at him—silent, still—while a train of murderous intent thundered through my mind. Every instinct in me screamed to end him right there, not for strategy or survival, but for the simple fact that his very presence crawled under my skin like a splinter made of shadow.
"Did you know?" I asked, my voice quiet, but steady.
Sanders nodded, not flinching. "Yes."
"The Kain bloodline… it's not just part of the Children of the Light, is it?" I said, the pieces falling together, the weight of truth settling on me. "It's tied to the Vampiric race as well."
"That is correct."
I felt my breath catch, the realization burning through the fog of denial I had lived with for so long. I had known I was descended from the Children of the Light—my mother's family, the Avrams, had made sure I understood that much. But this… this other truth, I had always pushed aside, buried where I wouldn't have to face it.
"You've always known," Sanders said quietly. "But you refused to see it."
"Is that why you brought me back here?" I asked, heart pounding, the question heavy with suspicion.
Sanders' gaze didn't waver. "The late king always intended for you to return here, when the time was right. But he died before he could make it happen. I gave him my word. I promised him I would bring you home."
"So he knew," I whispered, the final piece sliding into place. "He knew coming here would awaken the Kain Vampire within me."
"It seems that was his wish," Sanders said, his voice solemn. "And my duty was to ensure you survived the awakening. And now… you have." The room felt colder somehow, the weight of legacy pressing down on me. I had crossed a threshold that could not be uncrossed.
"Why?" The word fell from my lips like a breath I hadn't meant to release. I stared at Sanders, my heart pounding beneath the weight of it all. "Why would he want me to have this power?"
Sanders held my gaze, his crimson eyes steady, his voice quiet but firm. "Because it is your duty to protect Her Highness—Princess Ariella Ashtarmel."
The name struck me like a bell tolling in my mind.
"And to protect her from King Nehemiah and his forces," Sanders continued, "you need power, Lilith. Power enough to stand against what comes. I only fulfilled what the late king entrusted to me. The rest… the path ahead… that is yours to walk."
He rose then, his long black coat rustling softly as he turned to leave. His footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he crossed the room, the door closing behind him with a finality that left the air heavy and still.
I sank back against the cushions, my gaze falling to my hands. I flexed my fingers, feeling the thrum of mana coursing through me—the mana lattice within denser, stronger, more intricate than ever before. My veins seemed to hum with energy, as if the very essence of who I was had been reforged.
"Aeternum," I thought, reaching inward.
Yes, came the familiar voice, steady and present at last.
"You're back," I said, the tension in me easing, if only slightly.
Yes.
"Good."
Without hesitation, I rose from the bed, my movements silent as I crossed the room to the dresser mirror. I stared at the reflection—no, confronted it.
Orange eyes, once bright with youth, now burned with cold fire, staring back at me with unnerving stillness. My midnight-black hair had grown longer, wilder, framing a face no longer quite my own. My brown skin shimmered faintly with an otherworldly luster—reminiscent of the Avrams, touched by something no longer entirely human.
The scar on my lower lip, once a familiar flaw, was gone. In its place, or perhaps by its departure, a faint mark had appeared on my chin—a pale rune etched beneath the skin, pulsing softly as if breathing in time with my soul.
The Mark of Kain… the mark of a murderer…
Yes, that was exactly what I was. A killer. Branded not just in flesh, but in soul. In the mirror, a spectral flicker—her. Jen's reflection shimmered behind mine for a heartbeat, like a ghost clinging to memory. I spun around, breath caught in my throat. But nothing was there. Just silence. Just guilt.
"I'm sorry, Jen," I whispered, the words slipping from my lips like blood from a wound. "I wish I never came to this damned town... never left the Dread Forest... never—"
But I couldn't finish that sentence. Because the truth refused to let me lie. I didn't regret leaving the forest. If I had stayed... I would have never met Ella.
"I just wish I met you sooner, Jen. If only…"
"Lilith."Aeternum's voice whispered in my mind like a ghost calling me from the edge of sleep.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself within its pocket space once more—specifically, the Forge Lab. The air felt heavy, silent with a reverence I couldn't place. On top of a workbench lay a single vase, unassuming yet unmistakable. My heart clenched.
"I gathered what remained of her… before we left the Dungeon," Aeternum said quietly. "Ash, fragments. All that could be salvaged. You may do with it… whatever you choose."
I stepped forward slowly, hands trembling as I reached out to the urn. My fingers brushed its surface—cool, smooth, far too clean for something that held her. I unscrewed the lid. Inside, the fine gray ash shifted slightly, as if reacting to my breath. That… was Jen. Everything left of her, reduced to dust.
A sound tried to crawl out of my throat, half-sob, half-snarl. Instead, I swallowed it. What surged through me wasn't grief—it was rage. Pure, feral hatred. It thundered in my veins like war drums. It sickened me, made the walls spin, made bile rise to the back of my mouth. I nearly vomited from the pressure of it.
But I didn't.
I bit it down. Let the bitterness soak into my tongue like poison wine. One name formed in the crucible of my mind—Laplace.
The name didn't echo. It detonated.
With a thought, I transported myself back into the Sanctum's Library, where thousands of tomes lined ancient shelves like sleeping sentinels. The light here was dim, warm… deceptive. I didn't belong in warmth anymore.
"Aeternum," I said, voice low and serrated, like a knife dulled by too much use. "Give me anything you have on Laplace. I want to know who or what it is. And where I can find that son of a bitch."
Silence stretched for a moment. Even Aeternum hesitated.
"For what purpose, Lilith?" it asked softly.
"So I can kill it," I snapped. "What other reason would I need?"
Aeternum's form flickered, its face made of glowing lines shifting, unreadable yet still managing to seem… wary. It studied me—no, weighed me. Then, without another word, a heavy book lifted from a distant shelf and floated toward me, humming with dormant energy.
I took it in my hands, and in that moment, it became my anchor. My resolve. My answer to the overwhelming darkness blooming in my chest like a cancer. Because if I didn't act on it, I feared it would devour me whole. I would not let that happen—not to me, and never to Ella.
Just you wait, Laplace. I'm coming for you.