The Blood Grid steadied, pulsing faintly like a heart after thunder. For once, Gaia remained quiet, studying Alter as if weighing her words.
Then she asked softly, "What about your completion condition?"
Alter blinked. "…Completion condition?"
"Yes." Her golden eyes narrowed slightly. "Every game requires an end. The last time you played, the system collapsed… because it lacked a proper endpoint. Do you intend to make this world infinite? Or will there be a final struggle to decide your fate?"
Alter froze. The memory of that chaos lingered—a game spiraling out of control, victory feeling hollow because it had no true conclusion. He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "…Yeah. I don't want that happening again."
He looked up at her, eyes sharp. "You decide. Just make sure it's hard enough to make me sweat. Explosive. Something so brutal that even with my final form, I'll be struggling to win."
Gaia studied him for a long moment, then allowed herself a small, wry smile. "Very well. I will decide later. And I will not go easy on you."
Alter chuckled darkly. "Good. Wouldn't want you to."
The chamber quieted. The Blood Grid dimmed to a faint glow, waiting.
Alter leaned forward again. "Alright then. If that's the end… let's talk about the beginning. Where do I start? Do I wake in the labs during my escape? Or do I start as the wanderer, already free but weak, with my chains still haunting me?"
Gaia tilted her head, golden fingers weaving as she processed. "…Both are viable. Escape would begin with chaos—blood, chains, pursuit. Immediate danger. Wanderer would begin with silence—alone, starving, mistrusted. A slow burn."
She glanced at him, almost teasing. "So. Which would you prefer? To begin as the prisoner breaking free? Or as the fugitive stumbling through a world that has already turned against you?"
Alter smirked, golden eyes gleaming. "…Tough choice. Both sound fun."
The Blood Grid pulsed faintly, waiting for his answer.
Alter leaned forward, the faint crimson glow of the Blood Grid flickering across his face. He didn't hesitate.
"The escape," he said firmly. "I want to start in the thick of it. Chained, broken, tortured. I want to feel the suffering. That'll light the fire under me to survive."
Gaia's golden eyes flickered, as though she was unsettled by how quickly he chose the darker path. "…Very well. Then your beginning will be drenched in pain and blood. You will claw your way to freedom… or die trying."
Alter smirked. "Perfect."
The chamber shifted. Brief flashes of his starting scenario appeared—cold stone cells, iron restraints biting into pale flesh, inquisitors chanting as they dragged his body across a floor slick with blood. A scream echoed—not just sound, but memory etched into the simulation.
Alter leaned back, savoring it. "Yeah. That'll do."
He let the vision linger a moment before another thought struck him. He turned to Gaia, eyes narrowing. "…Alright. Then tell me—what does my avatar look like? How am I presented to the world at the start?"
Gaia paused. The Blood Grid pulsed once. Slowly, crimson mist began to swirl, forming the outline of a man.
"Your avatar," she said carefully, "is yours to define. But the system suggests a baseline appearance tied to your origin. A Progenitor betrayed, tortured, and escaped would not look regal at first… but ruined. Scarred. Starved. A monster waiting to be reborn."
The mist solidified: a tall figure, gaunt, skin pale as moonlight. Shackles still clung to his wrists and ankles, broken but dragging like reminders of his torment. His eyes glowed faintly—crimson at the edges, gold burning beneath like a sealed inferno. Hair long, tangled, stained with ash and dried blood.
Gaia added softly: "This form will change as you evolve. Every essence you consume will etch itself upon you. But this—this is how you will look when the world first sees you. A prisoner. A shadow. A forgotten king."
Alter stared at the projection, his grin slow and wicked. "…Good. Let them see me broken at the start. That'll make it all the sweeter when I rise."
The Blood Grid pulsed again, this time zooming into a smaller cluster of spheres. Shackles, rags, and broken iron fetters floated in projection—the "loadout" of a prisoner.
Gaia folded her arms. "You will begin with nothing. No armor. No weapons. Only your hunger. Your first kills will grant you your tools—fangs, claws, scraps of blood-forged steel."
Alter leaned in, smirking. "Perfect. A true escape. Bare hands, raw fury, carving my way out."
He was about to move on when another thought struck him. He froze, eyes narrowing. "…Wait. Hold up."
Gaia tilted her head. "What is it?"
"How do I move around?"
Gaia blinked, confused. "…You travel."
Alter chuckled low, shaking his head. "Gaia, c'mon. Basis of vampirism: sunlight kills us. Are you saying I can only travel at night? Hide in the dirt like some Nosferatu during the day?"
Gaia hesitated, then nodded. "…Yes. That is your curse."
For a moment Alter was silent. Then his lips curled into a dark smile, and a low laugh slipped out of his throat. "…Heh… heh heh…"
Gaia blinked, unsettled. "Why are you laughing?"
Alter leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Because I've already figured out how to break it."
Gaia froze, alarm flashing in her golden glow. "…No. Don't you dare."
"Think about it." Alter's grin sharpened. "I can already forge weapons, claws, and armor from blood. So why not push it further? Why not project an entire body of blood over myself—a second skin, a shield—to block the sun? A walking armor of crimson."
Gaia's expression went from confusion to outright horror. "You… would drape yourself in blood… to fight the sun?"
"Exactly." Alter's voice was almost gleeful. "A shell of liquid shadow, keeping the UV rays out. Sunlight-proof vampire. Problem solved."
For a long moment, Gaia just stared. Then her eyes narrowed, and her lips curved upward ever so slightly in triumph.
"No. That would not work," she said sharply. "Your blood is dark in nature. Tied to shadow, to the curse itself. Projected into the sunlight, it would melt. The stronger the rays, the faster it burns. It is not protection—it is fuel for your destruction."
Alter raised an eyebrow. "…Melt, huh?"
"Yes." Gaia straightened, almost smug now. "This time, you cannot bend the rules. This is your curse, your limitation. There is no escaping the sun."
She almost looked proud, as though she had finally beaten him at his own game of loopholes.
Alter leaned back, smirk unbroken. "…We'll see."
Gaia's smile faltered. "…What are you planning?"
Alter only chuckled darkly.
Gaia's voice rang with rare satisfaction. "…There is no escaping the sun. It is your curse. Immutable."
Alter tilted his head back, smirk widening. "Oh? You sound awfully confident about that."
Gaia crossed her arms, chin high. "Because this time, your loophole fails. The blood melts. The light wins. Accept it."
Alter tapped his fingers against the phantom chair, thinking aloud. "Alright, fine. Blood armor won't cut it. But what about…" His eyes glinted. "…alchemy?"
Gaia blinked. "…Alchemy?"
"Yeah." Alter leaned forward. "What if I gather rare essences—say, a basilisk's scale, a banshee's wail crystal, maybe some demon ichor—and forge them into an essence-cloak. Something that bends the rays, diffuses them. Not blood. Not shadow. Just raw crafted protection."
Gaia's projection flickered like she'd just swallowed static. "…That… would be possible. But it would take time. Days. Weeks of ingredients. Not available at the start."
Alter grinned. "Good. Something to chase."
But before Gaia could regain her composure, he kept going.
"Or better yet—evolution. Imagine this: as I devour more essences, I unlock a rare branch of the Grid. A Daywalker Path."
The Blood Grid pulsed faintly at his words, as though tempted by the concept.
Alter continued, his tone almost gleeful. "Mid-tier, I gain resistance. I can survive dawn. Late-tier, I adapt further. And at the absolute end? I evolve beyond the curse entirely. I walk beneath the sun as if it were nothing."
Gaia actually staggered, her eyes wide. "You… you would rewrite vampirism itself."
Alter chuckled darkly. "Exactly. Why settle for being bound by old rules when I can break them?"
Gaia clutched her temples, muttering. "…This is heresy. This is sacrilege. Vampires are creatures of the night. They are chained to it. If you walk in the sun, then… then you are not vampire. You are—"
Alter cut her off with a grin. "I am something new. A monster even monsters can't categorize."
The chamber fell silent. The Blood Grid throbbed once, as if it agreed with him.
Gaia's voice came low, almost horrified. "…Daywalker. No-Life King. Blood God. You are designing a creature that should not exist."
Alter leaned back, arms folded, eyes glowing faintly. "Exactly. And isn't that what makes it fun?"
The chamber hung heavy with silence, Gaia glaring as though daring him to challenge her again. Alter smirked, leaning forward like a gambler ready to show his hand.
"You know," he said casually, "this isn't even impossible. In Hellsing Ultimate, Arucardo walked during the daytime."
Gaia blinked. "…What?"
"Yeah." Alter's grin widened. "There was this scene—he went to investigate something, broad daylight. He even hypnotized the hotel clerk to get a room. Just walked right in, no problem."
Gaia's golden eyes flickered rapidly as she searched. "…Cross-referencing… Hellsing… Alucard… hotel… daytime…" Her projection twitched faintly. "Data confirms. He did indeed walk in daylight."
Alter leaned back smugly. "So there you go. It's canon somewhere. Evolution isn't impossible. It just means rewriting the curse."
Gaia pressed a hand to her temple. "…You are basing a fundamental rule of vampirism on an anime exception."
"Damn right I am." Alter smirked. "If Arucardo can do it, so can I."
Gaia exhaled sharply, like someone trying not to scream. "…You are unbearable."
But Alter wasn't finished. His eyes gleamed with another idea. "Or—forget just evolving past it. I could weaponize it."
Gaia froze. "…Weaponize the sun?"
"Not directly." Alter's smirk turned wicked. "But I could block it. Imagine—I summon a swarm of bats, or I create a mist so thick it blots out the light. Wherever I walk, the day turns to twilight. The curse isn't lifted—I just drag the night with me."
The Blood Grid pulsed, responding to the idea like it wanted to birth it into existence.
Gaia's eyes widened in horror. "You would cloak the world in shadow just to cheat the sun?"
Alter laughed low, dark and pleased with himself. "Why not? The world fears night. So let them fear me bringing it with me."
Gaia whispered, almost to herself, "…You are not breaking the curse. You are becoming it."
Alter leaned back, golden eyes burning. "Exactly."
The Blood Grid pulsed dangerously, crimson lines writhing as though it might split open under Alter's endless loopholes. His grin widened, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at having pushed the system into yet another impossible possibility.
But Gaia snapped.
"ENOUGH!"
Her voice cracked through the chamber like thunder. Golden light flared so bright it drowned out the crimson for a heartbeat, her form flickering with sharp edges, almost wrathful.
"You will not drag me into rewriting the laws of sun and shadow! Not yet. Not now. Not before you even escape your chains!"
Alter blinked, raising a brow. "…Whoa. You finally yelled at me."
"Yes!" Gaia's tone was sharp, scalding. "Because you are spiraling into apocalypse before you even pick up a weapon! Mist cloaks, bat swarms, blotting out the sun—no! Not yet. You must focus."
The Blood Grid shrank, condensing until only the bottom tier remained. Shackles. Rusted nails. Claw marks on stone.
"Start here," Gaia ordered. "You begin weak, half-dead, starving. Your first loadout is your body—fangs, claws, scraps of strength. Your first ability is feeding. Nothing more. No sun tricks. No world-shattering evolutions. Survive the escape first."
Alter smirked, leaning back. "…Heh. You sound like an angry tutor who caught me skipping the basics."
Gaia glared. "That is exactly what you are doing. Every mechanic you suggest spirals into an endgame calamity. But no matter how grand you wish to become, every monster starts at the bottom."
The crimson projection of his avatar appeared again—gaunt, scarred, shackles dragging. The faint glow of his eyes was his only weapon.
"Fangs. Claws. Hunger," Gaia said firmly. "This is where you begin. If you cannot endure this, then you will never see your grand powers, no matter how many anime references you hurl at me."
Alter chuckled low, amused at her fire. "…Alright, fine. You win this round, Gaia. We'll stick to the basics."
Gaia folded her arms, still glowing faintly from her outburst. "…Good. Then define it. Your starting abilities. What exactly will you carry into your escape?"
The Blood Grid steadied at last, no longer pulsing with dangerous expansion. Instead, it shrank, refining itself into a small branching diagram at the very bottom of the lattice. Shackles and scars marked its roots, and three distinct paths split upward, each faintly glowing crimson.
Gaia exhaled slowly, her projection calmer now but firm. "You demanded starting abilities. Then I will give you choices. A tree of blood. The first roots of your survival."
Alter leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Alright. Show me."
The first branch pulsed, forming a clawed hand dripping with red light.
"Predator's Instinct. Your fangs and claws sharpen unnaturally. You gain burst attacks—pouncing, tearing, feeding mid-strike. It is raw, feral combat. No grace. Only hunger."
The second branch flickered, becoming a crude blade forged from hardened crimson.
"Blood Forging. With each kill, you can craft temporary weapons or armor from your own essence. A blood dagger, a jagged claw-gauntlet, even a crude shield. But every creation drains your vitality."
The third branch pulsed softly, forming a shadowy mist that drifted between the cracks of the Grid.
"Wraith Step. Limited mobility. You slip briefly into shadow, phasing a short distance. Enough to evade a strike, pass through a barred gate, or confuse a pursuer. But prolonged use drains your hunger rapidly."
The branches shimmered side by side, three beginnings etched in crimson.
Gaia's golden eyes locked on Alter. "Choose one to awaken with. The others will come later. But this—this first decision defines how you escape the dungeon. Will you tear through it with fangs and claws? Will you craft your way out with weapons of your blood? Or will you slip through the cracks like a ghost?"
Alter studied the three branches flickering in crimson light, arms folded, eyes narrowed.
"Predator's Instinct, huh?" he muttered. "Boosts aggression, faster strikes, stronger claws." He shook his head. "Too sloppy. If I go wild, I'll alert the whole dungeon. Escaping takes calm. Precision. Not frenzy."
His gaze shifted to the second branch. "Blood Forging. Cute, but why bother? I can just kill a guard and take their weapons. Steel doesn't melt when you're tired."
Finally, his eyes settled on the shadowy branch. "…Wraith Step. Now that's something. Phasing through walls, slipping past gates… useful for an escape." He paused, lips curling into a grin. "But not enough."
Gaia tilted her head warily. "…Not enough?"
Alter leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "If I'm escaping, I don't just want a trick. I want a weapon that ends threats instantly. I want to target the ones experimenting on me first, then sweep through the guards. Martial arts and weapon arts are already mine. What I need…"
The Blood Grid pulsed violently, as though responding to his hunger.
"…is a Blood Field."
Crimson mist spread across the projection, swirling into a wide dome around his avatar. The guards inside twitched, convulsed—then crumpled as blood poured from their veins in glowing streams.
Alter smirked. "A feeding field. Anyone within it is drained of essence and blood. A room-clearing ability. Perfect for a prisoner making a bloody statement."
Gaia staggered, her eyes wide. "…That… is not a starting ability. That is… a massacre."
"Exactly," Alter said smoothly. "That's how I make my escape. Not with claws. Not with baby tricks. With fear."
The Grid pulsed again, showing him another image. His avatar leaned over a fallen knight, sinking his claws in—and instead of feeding slowly, the knight's entire body crumbled into ash, devoured completely. His wounds vanished. His body recharged.
Alter's grin sharpened. "And here's the second one. A complete consumption skill. Devour a living being entirely—restore my health, mana, stamina, everything. Leave nothing behind."
Gaia's projection flickered violently, like she was glitching under the weight of his demand. "…You… you want to start… with a field that slaughters whole rooms, and a skill that erases life itself?"
Alter leaned back, smirking. "Why settle for scraps when I can feast?"
Gaia whispered, horrified: "…You are asking me to make the perfect predator from the first step."
Alter chuckled low, golden eyes burning. "Exactly."
The crimson chamber trembled as Alter's proposed Blood Field rippled outward across the Grid, swallowing every guard in its radius like collapsing puppets. His grin widened, but Gaia's projection flickered in open alarm.
"No," she snapped, hands slicing through the projection. Golden code lashed across the grid like chains, compressing the field until it shrank and shrank—until it barely covered the space around his avatar.
The mist thinned, resolving into a faint crimson shimmer that hugged close to the body.
"Three meters," Gaia declared sharply. "No more. Your field is not a wave of genocide—it is an aura, limited, exhausting. If you want to drain, you must be close enough to feel their heartbeats."
Alter tilted his head, amused. "…Three meters, huh? You really don't trust me with crowd control."
"You do not deserve crowd control at the start," Gaia shot back, her voice heated. "This is not the final form. You are escaping a dungeon, not erasing armies!"
The Grid pulsed again, showing his second request—the Devour skill. His avatar leaned over a knight, claws piercing through, the body disintegrating into ash.
Gaia's eyes narrowed, and she jabbed a hand through the scene. The projection locked, rewritten by her golden script.
"Condition: Contact." she said firmly. "You cannot consume at a distance. You must touch your prey. Hold them. Tear them open. Devour them piece by piece. You will not be allowed to simply erase life en masse."
Alter raised a brow, smirking faintly. "…So no stacking the field and devour together, huh?"
Gaia folded her arms triumphantly. "Correct. I refuse to let you build a death bubble at level one."
For a long moment, Alter studied her, grin lingering like a wolf eyeing prey. Then he chuckled low. "…Fair enough. I'll play by your rules."
Gaia blinked in surprise. "You… agree?"
"Sure." Alter leaned forward. "Because I'll just find a way to break those rules later."
Her projection twitched, but before she could snap back, Alter raised a hand. "Alright, fine. I'll pick one of your original toys too. Let's go with Wraith Step. Short-range phasing. Perfect for slipping past locks or stabbing someone in the spine before they realize I'm there."
Gaia's shoulders relaxed. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "…Good. At least you chose something reasonable."
Alter smirked, leaning back. "Reasonable? No, Gaia. Strategic."
Gaia sighed, weary but relieved. "…At least you will begin without collapsing the world on the first step."