Deacon Frost was practically trembling with excitement. At long last, his plan had taken shape. He'd rallied the turnbloods, betrayed the Pureblood Council, slain Gitano, and rounded up all twelve pureblood elders.
The altar was ready. Blade had fallen into their trap and been captured.
Tonight, Deacon would ascend as the Blood God—ruler of the entire world.
Blade hung limp as the vampires hoisted him onto the stone slab. A series of barbed spikes pierced through his body, forcing the Daywalker's blood to flow down the channels carved into the altar, each drop trailing toward the foreheads of the twelve pureblood sacrifices.
As the Daywalker's blood fed the ancient rite, a strange aura seeped from the altar—an energy rising from deep within the ritual circle.
The chosen purebloods began to twist and rupture, their bodies splitting open as skeletal forms burst out of them. The sight was grotesque, eerie enough to chill even a vampire's blood.
But then, the entire roof exploded as someone punched through it—an armored figure in a gleaming steel battle suit dropped straight into the chamber.
While the Black Queen was tracking Blade per Zod's orders, she discovered he'd already fallen into vampire hands. After reporting it, Zod—despite knowing Blade handled Deacon effortlessly in the original timeline—still refused to take chances. He arrived fully equipped.
Not only equipped—he'd brought a full supply of anti-coagulant agents. He never entered a fight unprepared. Kryptonian strength was his last trump card, not his first.
Seeing the skeletal phantoms already rising above the altar, Zod knew the situation had reached a dangerous stage. Fortunately, Deacon hadn't completed his transformation.
Deacon, standing at the center of the altar, saw Zod drop in. His expression twisted, and he barked orders for his minions to stop the intruder who radiated "bad news" from every inch of his armor.
He didn't get the chance.
Zod's visor flared with blinding red light—
Heat vision.
A scorching beam lanced across the altar, slamming Deacon head-on. The very air rippled from the temperature spike.
Deacon screamed, his body turning to ash beneath the torrent of heat. The flying skeletons, now lacking a chosen host, hovered aimlessly. Zod tried sweeping the chamber, eliminating the remaining vampires to prevent them from becoming the Blood God's vessel.
But then the skeletons seemed to find a new target. Every last one of them turned and shot toward Blade.
"Wait!"
Zod reacted instantly. A burst of golden psychic power rippled outward, freezing the airborne skeletons as if the air itself had solidified. But a few still managed to slip past—and plunged straight into Blade's body.
Moments later, Blade rose, hovering weightlessly, an unnatural stillness wrapped around him. Zod tightened his grip on his weapons. If Blade transformed into the Blood God, he'd unload every anti-coagulant he brought.
"What… happened to me?"
Blade opened his eyes. He'd been drained to the brink of death—so why did his body suddenly feel overflowing with strength?
"You alright?" Zod asked, relieved that Blade still seemed lucid. That alone meant a conversation was possible.
"Who are you?"
Blade eyed him warily. The piles of ash around them made it obvious someone had just massacred the vampires—but in his groggy state, Blade wasn't sure whether it was this armored stranger.
"Just a passing superhero. No need to remember me. But you really should get your body examined."
Zod's tone was solemn and upright.
"No thanks."
Blade wasn't buying it.
"If you don't want to turn into a vampire, you'd better cooperate. I have a private medical team who can run a proper checkup."
Zod extended the offer—more like an insistence. The suspended skeletal remains finally dissolved into dust. His psychic power had surprisingly worked; he'd taken that shot in the dark, and it paid off.
Blade hesitated—but Zod was far more "enthusiastic" than he expected. Blade found himself dragged along with no room to resist, assuming the armor was simply too strong.
It was nearly four or five in the morning, but the moment Zod called, Dr. Connors rushed in. How could he not? Zod had said he might have brought back the living key to the universal cure.
Blade's girlfriend was brought along as well; she refused to leave him. Only upon seeing Zod Tech Industries did her shock deepen—Blade's savior was actually the owner of one of the world's top tech conglomerates?
Why would someone like that be out doing vigilante work?
Seeking thrills?
Blade reluctantly agreed to a full medical workup. Connors was meticulous—nothing escaped his sample kit. Meanwhile, Zod had the Black Queen run a complete scan, gathering every detail of Blade's physiology.
Blade was eventually dismissed and told to return in a few days for results.
Dr. Connors, however, dove headfirst into nonstop research. Zod already had the data he needed—thanks to the Black Queen—and relaxed.
Whether there was any difference between the "Blood God–touched" Blade and the previous version wasn't clear yet. For now, no existing technology could spot it. The Black Queen's analysis showed Blade's cells were in an unusually hyperactive state—his metabolism was absurdly fast. But even at that rate, his cells displayed no division limit. As long as they weren't destroyed, Blade was effectively immortal.
Compared to human DNA, Blade carried an additional ten percent genetic variance—likely the vampire portion. But compared to the captured vampire specimens, Blade's "vampire genes" were superior, containing sequences the others lacked.
"Boss, the serum is ready!"
Dr. Connors was ecstatic. Blade was a gold mine—no, a miracle. He might single-handedly solve diseases that plagued humanity for thousands of years. In fact, Connors felt the man should be brought back and "bred" for future generations.
"Testing, Doctor. I've told you many times—proper tests require isolation and observation. Don't sprint to me the moment you have a sample."
Zod sighed. Connors was far too excitable. What if something went wrong?
With the help of the Beast Troopers, Connors had acquired plenty of criminals as test subjects. Each would be infected with the deadliest human viruses or diseases, then injected with the universal cure serum. They would observe whether the subjects recovered—and whether they risked turning into vampires.
Zod set the observation period to one year. A long incubation period could still be catastrophic, so caution was the only rule.
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