The castle gates had been opened for the first time in decades.
The High Keep pulsed with movement now. Banners were torn down, corridors swept clean, ruined chambers reinforced. The courtyard had been overtaken by shadows and silence—but now, light flickered. Fires in the braziers. Blood lamps lit the walls. The heart of the Vampire Realm had started beating again.
The Origin Clan moved like a tide. No orders needed. Each knew what to do.
Jax was welding reinforcements into the broken walls with precise arcs of mechanical flame. Vel blurred past him, dragging shattered columns upright like they weighed nothing. Serah spread her bloodthorns across the outer windows for defense while Kira stood in the grand corridor, whispering silent curses into the stone to create traps only she could undo.
They weren't preparing for guests.
They were building a throne.
