Zaro giving all his will to Steve was something that made Star's book blow up even harder than he ever imagined. And honestly? The man wasn't wrong to do so.
Steve was truly his son. Still, Star who had written that madness, couldn't help thinking that Zaro had just signed the "Father of the Year" award in crayon on the wrong side of the paper.
Zaro knew full well it wasn't a good idea, especially after making that dramatic royal announcement to his daughters: "Whichever of you becomes the richest shall inherit my will!"(Yeah, he really said that. The man turned inheritance into a game show.)
But of course, Zaro couldn't just give his will to daughters who'd go off, marry, and take someone else's last name. Oh no. His royal ego couldn't handle that. He wanted his name to echo through history...
"The House of Zaro shall endure!", and for that, he needed a male heir.
Turns out, he already had one. For years. Living quietly with a farmer, milking goats, and eating stale bread.
Star had crafted that finale for maximum suspense, and it worked too well. That last twist which was hidden in a dusty corner of the script, like a typical side story, exploded across the fandom like fireworks made of caffeine and betrayal.
In the story, Zaro had once slept with a maid servant while drunk. The next morning, when he found her in his bed, his royal guilt and anger fought a cage match in his head.
He accused her of seduction (classic) and, in the ultimate display of royal hypocrisy, ordered her to be beheaded. Because why take responsibility when you can take someone's head, right?
At that time, only two of his daughters had been born; tiny little things with eyes wide enough to swallow the whole scandal, even if they didn't yet understand it.
On the day of her execution, the maid was saved by a towering black man named Jason Stone. Jason, as it turned out, wasn't just anyone, he was the king's personal guard and secretly a vampire. You know, as one does.
Star remembered writing that scene and laughing at how dramatic it sounded on paper.
"Jason Stone… the vampire with a conscience." He could practically hear the background violin music.
Jason couldn't stand by and watch Zaro murder an innocent woman, especially since he knew the truth: the king had forced himself on her. So Jason did what every heroic side character does in Star's stories, he threw his entire career into a bonfire and saved her.
The two fled together.
The king's wrath? Oh, it was biblical.
He sent squads of vampire-hunters after them, screaming something about betrayal and royal vengeance while sipping wine.
But Jason and the maid (her name was Naya Stangard), became the ultimate fugitive couple.
They moved from city to city, hiding like teenagers skipping curfew.
Jason's rank helped them escape more than once, slipping past guards like shadows with good timing.
Star, watching his own memory play out now that he was inside the story, muttered to himself:
"Honestly, I made Jason way too cool. Why didn't I write myself like that?"
Anyway, things got complicated, as they always do. Zaro eventually hunted them himself. Jason sensed his presence; it was like the air got heavier, and even the moon looked nervous.
To protect Naya, Jason made a heartbreaking decision. He left her. (Classic tragic romance move number seventy-three.)
Before he vanished, though, Jason realized something: Naya was pregnant. Not just pregnant, but pregnant with Zaro's child. And Jason could literally hear the baby's second heartbeat, pounding like a war drum in her womb.
Creepy? Maybe. Cool? Definitely.
Before parting, Jason marked her as his mate, biting her neck gently, letting her drink a drop of his blood so the venom wouldn't kill her.
Star remembered adding that detail and almost blushing when writing it. "I swear I just wanted to make it poetic," he'd muttered. Now, seeing it happen in real time, he grimaced. "Okay, yeah, that was way too hot for a PG rating."
From then on, vampire blood flowed in Naya's veins. It was both protection and curse.
Jason left, drawing away the hunters. It worked, but she never saw him again.
Then came the horror part, Star's favorite section when he was still an author typing at 3 a.m. on too much caffeine.
For fourteen months.
'Wait was it? Yes, fourteen'... Naya carried the child of two worlds. The nights were filled with screams that didn't sound human. Sometimes she saw her reflection shimmer red-eyed in the mirror. She'd breathe out cold mist on warm days, her body shaking, her mind a haunted room.
The villagers swore they heard howls at night coming from her cottage. Some even moved away. Chickens refused to lay eggs. One farmer's cow refused to moo again. The house itself creaked like it was tired of existing.
By the eighth month, Naya couldn't eat normal food anymore. Bread? No. She wanted raw meat and rainwater. Her brother; the simple farmer who'd taken her in, held her hand through fevers that made her veins glow. He probably aged ten years in those months.
Star watched all this and muttered, "Wow, I really traumatized her for plot reasons, huh? I was sick."
When the birth finally came, it wasn't a birth, it was a storm. Windows rattled, candles died, thunder cracked though the sky was clear. Naya screamed, and blood poured, silver-tinged, shimmering like moonlight. Then silence.
And out came Steve: a baby boy with eyes darker than sin and a heartbeat that thumped like battle drums.
This was Steve Morris; the purest vampire ever born. The first and only to come from a human womb.
Naya's brother, bless his traumatized soul, took the baby in and named him Steve Gamber.
When Zaro eventually learned he had a bastard son, regret hit him like a brick to the face. He wanted to fix things, to make it right. He didn't even care that the boy was what he'd spent his whole career trying to exterminate.
He sent for Steve and the farmer that night, offering mansions, gold, servants, the full royal package. But Steve, being both stubborn and half-vampire, refused. The king had abandoned him once; why trust him now?
Still, the king knew the cheat code, get to him through the uncle who raised him.
And that's how Star's story looped back to the will reading scene, the one that broke the internet.
Now the king wasn't done. He gave everything to Steve. The royal estate. The crown. The legacy. The fans went wild. Comment sections became digital riots.
Then came the infamous ending.
The screen went black, not a normal fade-out but a smear, like someone had dragged a bloody hand across the camera. All that was left was a slow, echoing heartbeat. Then, scream. Crown falls. Door slams.
Blood dripped down the credits, literally. Star had coded it that way, the letters slithering like live snakes. People lost their minds.
"WHAT HAPPENS NEXT???"
"ARE THE SISTERS GOING TO KILL THE KING???"
Others swore they saw fangs hidden in the crimson letters, or a crown cracking in the final frame. Some saw a hand reaching for a blade. Nobody knew what was next, only that it'd be violent, bloody, and probably traumatizing.
Reaction videos flooded the net, faces pale, mouths open, people screaming, throwing popcorn at their screens.
It wasn't just a cliff-hanger; it was a soul-hanger.
And Star, now living inside this story as Steve himself, just stared at the sky and muttered:
"I should've just written a rom-com."
He was stuck. His own cruelest cliff-hanger had trapped even him. He didn't know how to move forward, he'd written himself into a narrative grave.
But maybe, just maybe, he was in a lucky position. After all, this was his world. His creation. He knew every twist, every secret, every character flaw (because he made them).
Only… some things were different now. Things were shifting.
His stats screen had changed. Instead of showing numbers and skills, it started giving him missions.
Star blinked, rubbed his eyes, then muttered the words every transmigrated author says at least once in their new life:
"What in the actual plot twist is happening?"
And not only that…many things had shifted since he became Steve.
One being...
To be continued… (●_●)