The world was burning.
Not with fire — but with silence.
The final battle had ended. The skies over Earth were cracked, bleeding blue lightning from the celestial tear left behind by the God Slayers. Floating cities drifted as ash fell like snow. The age of Vampires, Werewolves, Celestials, and Demons had come to a violent, bitter close.
And at the heart of it all…
stood Quinn Talen — bloodied, broken, but undefeated.
---
He was alone in the crater of a shattered moon.
Below him, Earth flickered with the dying glow of tech-based cities.
> "You've saved them all… but at what cost?" a voice whispered — the last echo of Sil, the Shadow God.
Quinn said nothing.
In his hands, he held the shattered remnants of his gear — broken blades, tattered armor, and his ring — the last artifact untouched by war. It pulsed with a faint hum of life.
He could feel it — his soul fraying. The power he held was too great, too unstable. The leveling system itself was collapsing, its structure unable to contain what he had become. A being made of code, blood, and divine will — he was no longer meant to exist.
> "There's no one left to pass it to…" he whispered.
But then he remembered them — not his comrades, not even Layla.
He remembered his bloodline.
His future.
A vision appeared in his mind — not seen, but felt: a girl born of his lineage, marked not by vampire genes, but something purer — Light, untouched and divine.
She would need a guide.
---
Quinn raised his hands, and with the last fragments of his soul, he forged the Ring of the Eternal System.
Infused with his consciousness. Sealed with his knowledge. Powered by the last code of the Universe's original system — a dying star's core, vampire blood, phoenix ashes, and a memory crystal from the past.
It shimmered with deep sapphire light, radiating not just power — but hope.
> "Find her. Protect her. Guide her," he said to the ring, his voice distant now.
And then he disappeared.
Quinn Talen — the Vampire God — became legend.
---
The Ring's Journey
The ring drifted.
Through war. Through centuries. Through betrayal and peace. Passed from hand to hand — always hiding itself from the unworthy. It whispered to some, silenced others. A hunter once tried to sell it. A priest tried to destroy it. A king tried to wear it — and went mad.
The ring waited.
It waited as civilizations fell and new ones rose. It pulsed quietly through time, echoing Quinn's will.
Until…
A stray shuttle fell near Seraphon.
Inside it — an ancient artifact box embedded in meteor stone.
Scientists dismissed it. Historians ignored it.
Until a curious girl snuck into the exhibit.
Joy.
And the ring pulsed — for the first time in a thousand years.
It flew to her, chose her.
And the voice of Quinn whispered through her mind:
> "You are not my descendant by power. You are by heart."
---
END OF CHAPTER 2