Somewhere unknown, within a chamber shrouded in a red gloom, lit only by the faint glow of arcane symbols covering the walls.
Every surface, every artifact, and every inscription carved into metal or stone served a specific purpose within the process of purification and biological manipulation. At the center, a rectangular pool contained a substance that appeared to be simple blood, but in truth represented the accumulation of months of meticulous work: it was blood collected from various types of giants, each sample carefully selected for the purity of its lineage and pretreated to eliminate any trace of degeneration, magical contamination, or unwanted genetic mixing.
Noah floated cross-legged above the pool, in complete silence, with his eyes closed and his third eye fully active. It neither glowed nor pulsed dramatically; instead, it analyzed the internal patterns of the blood with pinpoint precision, detecting any alteration in the magical or genetic structure of each portion that slowly rose from the surface of the liquid.
This exerted tremendous mental pressure on Noah, yet he didn't even furrow his brow as he manipulated his Eye of Truth, the new name he had given this organ.
As small masses of blood rose, they were held in the air by his telekinetic control and subjected to a refinement process that combined advanced sorcery with biotechnological knowledge—eliminating residues, adjusting internal resonances, and stabilizing latent energy.
Each processed portion was compressed under perfectly calculated pressure until it formed a solid bloodstone, about the size of a small walnut, which then remained suspended in the air alongside the others.
Noah wasn't working randomly, but following a sequence he had planned and rehearsed dozens of times. Each stone represented a different genetic variant from a particular giant bloodline: some adapted to ice, others to fire, mountains, storms, or even unknown regions whose existence was barely documented.
Although the blood had already undergone a prior purification stage, Noah was determined to take it even further—to subject it to a new refinement process that would remove even the tiniest inconsistencies that had previously gone unnoticed.
When the pool was finally empty, twelve bloodstones floated in a circle around him, each one vibrating faintly with a specific magical resonance.
Then, without theatrical gestures or verbal commands, Noah activated the next phase of the procedure. The stones began to move toward each other before merging completely and slowly beginning to melt.
The fusion process wasn't simply about combining matter—it involved reorganizing the genetic and magical information contained in each fragment to form a completely homogeneous new entity.
As they compressed, their size diminished, but their density increased in proportions that could only be understood in terms of contained life energy. After a few minutes, all that remained was a single drop of blood, small and dark, with a deep red hue.
That drop, seemingly insignificant, contained the purest lineage of giants Noah had managed to gather and synthesize—a stable, refined combination that surpassed any existing form of inheritance in the current world.
Noah held the drop with his telekinesis and moved it toward an incubator at the far end of the room. The device hovered in the air, supported by an anti-gravitational structure and surrounded by screens and monitoring systems recording every biological fluctuation of its contents.
Inside, immersed in an artificial amniotic fluid enriched with nutrients and magical stabilizers, floated a developing giant fetus. Despite being in an early stage of gestation, its size easily surpassed that of a ten-year-old human child—unsurprising, given the lineage running through its veins.
This fetus was the result of constant purification of giant bloodlines—and it wouldn't be the last. Noah's goal was to use giant blood to recreate a creature he had found referenced in several stolen historical records: the ancestors of the giants—the Titans.
When the drop of blood reached the surface of the liquid inside the incubator, the system's sensors detected its presence and responded immediately. A series of internal mechanisms rearranged the fluid, carefully clearing the space in front of the fetus's chest to allow for insertion.
Then, over the heart, a small incision appeared. The drop descended gently, penetrated the opening without spilling a single particle, and was absorbed by the fetus's heart within seconds. The wound closed instantly, leaving no scar.
For a brief moment, a faint reddish luminescence spread from the heart through the fetus's limbs—barely perceptible to the naked eye, but clearly registered by the sensors surrounding the incubator. The monitors' graphs immediately showed a clear improvement in the coherence of the magical and genetic pattern.
Without changing his expression or showing any sign of emotion, Noah observed the results for a few seconds longer before calmly leaving the room, allowing the automated systems to maintain environmental conditions.
Three months later…
The Twilight Empire had gone from being a troubling rumor to a consolidated reality. Its structure was stable, its army increasingly numerous, and its enemies… more nervous. It didn't take long before the balance began to falter.
One random night, without warning or context, a rumor slipped through the magical alleys of London, the hidden passages of Paris, and the clandestine bars of Berlin. It was said that the King of the Twilight Empire—that mysterious Adrian Tepes who ruled Romania with a firm hand—had discovered forbidden knowledge. One that allowed him to absorb the blood of pure-blooded wizards to increase his magical power.
The reaction was immediate. Within a week, pure-blood families began reinforcing their protections. Emergency meetings were held in secret. Magical governments that had previously ignored the Empire began paying attention. All of Europe burned with rumors and paranoia.
Just as Noah had planned.
At the top of the castle, in his spacious and austere office, Noah sat calmly at his desk, leafing through documents, unaffected by the uproar he himself had caused. The light of a magical lamp floated in the air, illuminating maps, reports, and sealed scrolls.
The door burst open. A bald man with a sparse white beard and dark robe entered with a tense expression. He was one of the senior council advisors.
"Is it true?" he asked without greeting, barely closing the door behind him. "Is that rumor about pure-blood wizards true?"
Noah looked up, unsurprised, and met his gaze with that blend of calm and irony that always accompanied him.
"You mean the rumor about absorbing magical power through blood?" he asked with feigned interest. "Of course not. There's no such miraculous method."
"Then why don't you deny it? The magical world thinks we're about to attack! This could start an unnecessary war!"
"Exactly," Noah replied, shrugging. "A little paranoia is useful. If they think we're blood-drinking monsters, they'll be too busy protecting themselves to unite against us."
The old man clenched his fists.
"And what if they unite out of fear?"
Noah tilted his head.
"Then let them come. I have plans for that too. But if it worries you so much, I'll make a public statement tomorrow to ease their nerves. A show of goodwill. Let them see how reasonable we are."
The elder didn't seem convinced, but nodded slowly, resigned.
"You'd better, Tepes. Not everyone is willing to follow a leader who plays with fire so cheerfully."
Once the door closed behind him, the atmosphere in the office returned to its usual calm.
A few seconds later, another figure crossed the doorway.
Selene, with her fluid stride and feline gaze, entered the office as if it belonged to her. She wore a dark silk dress that shimmered faintly under the floating light. Without a word, she walked slowly to the desk, stopping in front of Noah.
"Another nervous advisor?" she asked with a sly smile, sitting on the edge of the desk. "They're getting more annoying every time."
"They lack imagination," Noah replied, setting the papers aside.
Selene leaned in toward him, her lips just a breath away.
"And you…? Do you still have the energy to imagine?" she whispered as her fingers slid along the buckle of her dress.
Noah didn't answer with words. He set aside the documents he'd been reading, without taking his eyes off hers. Selene smiled seductively, letting the dress slide off her shoulders and fall to the floor.