Rain poured like a broken sky as Alex lay crumpled in the alley, unmoving.
His heart slowed to a crawl.
Inside him, the drop of vampire blood began to surge—fusing, fighting, adapting. The moment it touched his essence, the pendant responded.
From deep within his chest, the star-shaped heirloom pulsed once—then dissolved into pure energy, folding into him. It didn't vanish—it entered, embedding itself beyond flesh, past bone and blood, sinking into the core of his being.
There, a spark ignited.
A world began to form.
Not physical—internal. A realm of pure potential: a vast black void stretching endlessly, seeded by starlight. The pendant's celestial origin catalyzed the process, guiding the transformation with a power beyond bloodlines.
The vampire's gift gave him the form.
The pendant gave him the origin.
His body convulsed on the soaked concrete as energy surged through him—cells unraveling, bones realigning. His very DNA was rewriting itself. Fangs pricked beneath his gums. His senses bloomed—painfully sharp.
But the pendant, ancient and wise, chose a mask.
Lightning.
Not just a power—but a perfect camouflage. It disguised the celestial nature brewing inside him, wrapping it in a recognizable element, one the world would accept.
Far above, hidden in a surveillance drone cloaked in urban static, a red light blinked.
Somewhere in Blue Star's Monitoring Grid:
A man in a dark uniform sat back from his control panel, brows raised as the reading stabilized.
"Unknown Awakening detected. Coordinates locked: Sector V-17. Confirmed elemental reading: Lightning. Power flux stable, origin undetermined."
Another voice replied through his earpiece, calm and clinical:
"Deploy local node and set up a containment web. Level 2 classification. Passive monitoring. If the subject stabilizes, initiate Contact Protocol 1."
"Yes, Agent." The man tapped the screen. "Setting protective field now. Tracking signature locked."
At dawn...
Alex stirred.
The rain had stopped. The alley was silent, except for the low hum of hidden tech buried around him—barely visible crystals embedded in the walls and trash heaps, pulsing faintly.
A figure crouched near him, tall and lean, wearing a dark-grey coat with silver trim and a high collar. His eyes were like mirrors, reflecting more than light.
"Welcome back," the man said.
Alex tried to sit up. Pain lanced through his back.
"You went through an Awakening," the man continued. "Unexpected. Fast. Not exactly clean, but… you survived."
Alex's mind swam. "What… what are you talking about?"
The man stood and offered him a small black device—shaped like a coin with a blinking blue rim. "Name's Kael. I work for the Registry of Supernatural Affairs. RSA for short. We track and support awakeners like you."
Alex stared at him, still dazed.
"We've registered your initial scan. Power type: Lightning. Class: Undetermined. You'll get full classification once your awakening finishes. For now, we've set up shielding in this area to protect you while your system finishes syncing."
Kael gestured to the alley. "That pendant of yours—the one that's gone now—it did something. Your awakening was... different."
Alex's hand shot to his chest. Nothing.
"We don't ask too many questions on day one," Kael said, more gently. "But you're not ordinary anymore. This world has layers—clans, factions, ranked organizations. Vampires. Werewolves. Elementals. Some fight for power, others for control. But everyone plays the same ranking game."
He handed Alex a sleek bracelet with a crystal embedded in its center.
"This is your ID and communication access. When you're ready for more answers, reach out through that. It's encrypted."
"Why aren't you telling me everything now?" Alex asked, eyes narrowing.
Kael offered a faint smile. "Because if you were meant to know everything from the beginning... you'd already know. Rest. Heal. Watch the world with new eyes."
And just like that, Kael was gone—vanishing between shadows with supernatural ease.
Back at the Orphanage
Alex stepped through the gates as the first rays of sun lit the cracked sidewalk. His clothes were still damp. His limbs heavy.
The matron, Miss Hara, spotted him through the front window and rushed out.
"Alex! Where have you been? I've been worried sick. You didn't come home last night!"
He gave a weak, apologetic smile. "Sorry. The rain hit hard, and I took cover in an old church nearby. It was too strong to leave, so I stayed the night."
She gave him a suspicious look, then sighed. "You look awful. Sit. I'll make you something."
His stomach rumbled.
Minutes later, he sat in the warm dining room, scarfing down a bowl of hot porridge and sweet bread. Every bite filled him with flickers of life—though something inside him still ached, like a system rebooting.
By the time the last bite was gone, exhaustion crept over him like a wave.
He climbed back into bed without another word and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.