Over the years, Tori had changed drastically, partly due to her illness.
When she woke up, her first question was whether she was in paradise. Back then, the virus was still deadly to everyone around, and her disbelief in her own survival was a heartbreaking matter. But I reassured her, saying I would fix everything.
Her first reaction, of course, was denial. As always, she tried to act as if it wasn't her who had dragged me out of an alien ship in the past. I knew nothing about psychology, but it seemed to me then that she was still clinging to the thread of the ordinary life she once had. A life where she had a regular job, a husband, and a child.
But everything changed, and the virus changed it all. I had to seize the planet, kill many people—some who might have deserved it, others who might not. It wasn't for me to decide.
But I decided. What a contradiction…
During the first weeks of my conquest, Tori was like someone submerged in water. Lost, not always understanding where she was. Caitlin had to practically become a caretaker for my mother, for which I was endlessly grateful.
My adoptive mother couldn't accept it, couldn't comprehend it. But everything comes to an end eventually, and after months, she finally accepted that her son was no longer the little child learning to walk. Those times passed quickly, sadly.
Looking at the ten people standing before me, transformed into super-soldiers, my first creations, I couldn't help but feel horrified.
Horrified by the passage of time. Everything was moving too fast.
"They're ready," Ellis said, standing nearby, resting her chin in her hand and watching the motionless Alpha squad. The first underground training complex beneath the scientific city was specially designed to create beings like them. This place could withstand their emotions. Withstand their character. My task was to nurture, heal, and guide them. Like children.
"We're taking off."
---
"Alpha-1 to Alpha-2, how much longer? Our guys are practically marinated in this iron sarcophagus. Over."
"Alpha-2 to Alpha-1, unknown. Alpha-0 hasn't given any orders. He's still out of radar range."
The metallic hum of the rotors cut through the silence, drowning out the occasional clicks of equipment and the stifled sighs of the soldiers. The helicopter hovered in the air, as if suspended by invisible threads, while dark patches of mountains streaked with snow and rock flashed past the cockpit window. It was cramped inside: ten figures in black reinforced suits, their faces hidden behind masks with dimly glowing visors. The tech goggles were necessary to see in the darkness of these mountains. They didn't yet fully possess my abilities. Their breathing synchronized with the rhythm of the machine—steady but tense, like a taut string. My blood flowed in their veins, making them faster, stronger, but even it couldn't mask the faint smell of sweat and metal permeating the cabin. Mixed with it was the sharp tang of gun oil and rust—the smell of war. A familiar, repulsive smell.
"Alpha-1," Jeremy's voice, hoarse but firm, cut through the comms. "I'm asking you. If he's not back in an hour, I'll start combing these rocks myself. Sitting here for five hours is like being in a coffin with a propeller—unbearable."
"Stand down, Jeremy," Alpha-1, Michael, the squad leader, snapped. The strongest of them. His visor tilted slightly, reflecting the dim light of the control panel. "Alpha-0 knows what he's doing. We wait. And you—remember where he pulled you from."
"I know," Jeremy muttered, crossing his arms. His fingers, enhanced by the exoskeleton suit, twitched slightly, betraying impatience. "But we're sitting here like canned goods while he's out there like it's a stroll."
"He's not on a stroll," Alpha-4, Sage, interjected, a woman with a short buzz of hair visible under her removed helmet. Her voice was lower than the others, with a slight rasp, as if she'd been breathing dust for too long. "He's searching. And if he finds it, we'll be the first to storm that rat's nest. So sit tight and breathe easy, Jeremy. Remember what we were taught…"
---
Jeremy. A rebel if ever there was one. He reminded me of myself in the past. Lost his legs to a mine and was sent into retirement. A pitiful fate, one I'd seen many times, but in this world, everything was different. I gave him his legs back. Gave them their lives back. In return, I asked for one thing: loyalty. I overheard their conversations and sensed the atmosphere in the cabin. Tension, the anticipation of blood on their hands soon. It was exhilarating. Even through the wind hitting my face, through the hum of altitude, their voices reached me—my heightened senses caught every word. I flew over the mountains, my shadow gliding over the rocks like a phantom, searching for traces. The chemical markers Ellis had mentioned were somewhere here—a faint smell of rot and iron lingered in the air, almost imperceptible to an ordinary human. But I wasn't an ordinary human. Not anymore.
There, after five minutes, I found it.
"Alpha-1, this is Alpha-0," my voice cut into the comms, cold and sharp like a blade. It must be strange to hear a child's voice. They'd have something to remember. "I've detected an anomaly. Northwest, three kilometers from your position. A cave. Four guards. Prepare for landing."
Silence fell in the cabin, broken only by the faint crackle of static. Michael straightened, his hand resting on the lever for the drop hatch.
"Copy, Alpha-0. Course set. What's next?"
"Wait for my signal," I said, hovering over the dark chasm in the rock. The wind whipped up dust and small stones, but I could feel it—the smell. Blood. Rot. Something alive, yet dead inside. "If this is it, I'm going in first. You cover."
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-2," Tom, the co-pilot, spoke, his voice calmer but tinged with tension. "Radars are clear, but something's interfering with the signal. Could be a trap."
"Let it be a trap," I replied, clenching my fists. My knuckles cracked, my skin taut, ready to strike. "I'll break it."
"He always says that," Jeremy muttered, but his tone lacked sarcasm now, only anticipation. The others were silent, but I felt their gazes—even through the helicopter's walls, even through kilometers of air. They were waiting. They believed.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-4," Sage's voice cut through the comms again, firm but with a faint shadow of concern. "If there are vampires… what do you want us to do with them?"
I froze, staring into the black maw of the cave. The question cut like a knife. What to do? Kill. Burn. Break. It was simple. But what if it wasn't just monsters in there? What if there were people—those they'd broken, like they broke the world? My blood boiled, demanding action, but my mind—speaking in Ellis's voice, literally—whispered: Think clearly.
"Take the living prisoner," I said finally. "Leave the dead as they are. I need answers, not bodies. Keep the leader alive, eliminate the rest."
"Copy," Sage replied, and I heard her checking her weapon—a soft scrape of metal, the rustle of a strap. Swords, forged in haste. Firearms wouldn't hit these creatures. Too fast.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-1. Drop in five minutes. We'll meet you at the point," Michael added, and the helicopter swayed, beginning its descent.
I nodded, though they couldn't see me, and stepped down, letting the wind carry me. The ground rushed up fast, rocks crunching under my boots as I landed at the cave's entrance. The smell grew stronger—sweet, nauseating, with a hint of metal. Here. They were here.
"Alpha-1, this is Alpha-0. I'm inside. Follow me," I said, stepping into the darkness. The cold embraced me like an old friend, and somewhere deep within, a sound stirred—quiet but distinct. A rustle. Breathing. They knew I was coming. The four guards shifted.
---
The cave's darkness closed around me like a living thing, but I saw everything—every jut of rock, every track in the damp earth. My senses, sharpened to their limit, caught the slightest shifts in the air. The four sentries were close. I heard their breathing—uneven, whistling, steeped in the same rot that hung in the air. Vampires. No longer human. Their hearts beat slowly, almost lazily, but I knew it was a deceptive weakness. They were fast as shadows and ravenous.
The first one lunged from behind a rock outcrop to my left—a lanky figure with glowing red eyes and claws long as daggers. He charged with a guttural snarl, but I was faster. My hand shot forward, fingers closing around his throat, and I squeezed. The crunch of his cervical vertebrae echoed off the walls, black, thick blood spraying from his crushed throat, coating my hands. I heated my palm, and his body flared, collapsing into hot ash.
"One down," I said into the comms, moving forward. The other three attacked at once: two from the front, the third dropping from a ledge above. Their movements were precise, almost synchronized, but I saw every detail—the tension in their dry muscles, the claws slicing through the air. I dodged the first, grabbed the second by the wrist, and twisted—the bone snapped with a wet crack, his arm dangling like a rag. My fist slammed into his chest, shattering ribs—his heart burst under the blow, black sludge spilling onto the floor, soaking the earth.
The third landed on my back, claws digging into my shoulders, but I only smirked. Grabbing his head, I yanked him over my shoulder. He crashed down, and my boot crushed his skull—bones scattered, brains splattered on the walls, mixing with dirt and blood. The last one froze, his eyes flashing with fear—a rarity for these creatures. He bolted, but I leaped, tackling him to the ground. My hand pierced his nape, fingers exiting through his mouth, pinning him to the earth. His body jerked, blood gushing from the wound, soaking my boots. I pulled my hand free, and beams from my eyes incinerated their bodies to ash.
"Four eliminated," I said, wiping my hand on the tattered cloth that remained. Control still needed work. "Path clear. Come in."
The helicopter's hum faded, replaced by heavy footsteps. Michael entered first, his sword—rough, serrated—already in hand, stained with old blood. Sage followed, her steps soft but sure, her blade gleaming in the visor's light. Jeremy trailed slightly, gripping his hilt so tightly the metal creaked, his visor reflecting a thirst for battle. Tom, Emma, Rick, Lina, Kyle, and Sam held formation, their exoskeletons humming with tension. My blood in their veins surged, demanding action.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-1. We're here. What do you see?" Michael's voice was calm but firm.
"Tracks lead deeper," I replied, pointing to a narrow passage. "More of them down there. I can smell them. Prepare for resistance."
The damn walls blocked my vision. Something was interfering again.
We moved forward, the cave narrowing, walls pressing in, but no one complained. After a hundred meters, the air grew heavier, thick with the sweet stench of decay. The first vampire burst from a side tunnel, lunging at Sage. She met him with her sword—the blade sliced through his shoulder, cleaving down to his stomach, entrails slapping onto the floor, black blood soaking her boots. The creature howled, but Sage stepped forward, yanking the blade free with a crunch.
"Two more on the left!" Tom shouted, and the team scattered. Jeremy crashed into one, his blade piercing its chest, ripping upward—ribs shattered, chunks of flesh and bone spraying the walls. Michael decapitated the second with a single swing, its head rolling, leaving a sticky trail. Emma, Alpha-5, lunged at the third, driving her sword into its throat—blood gushed in a stream, the creature choking as it fell to its knees. Another swing, and its head flew off.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-4," Sage's voice cut through the chaos. "Too many for a simple base. Something bigger's here."
"I know," I replied, moving forward. Another vampire lunged at me, but I caught it by the throat and slammed it into the wall—its spine snapped, its head bursting like an overripe fruit, leaving a crimson smear. "This isn't just a den. It's their nest."
The cave widened into chambers with jagged ceilings. Creatures poured from the shadows—dozens, with glowing eyes and bared fangs. I led the charge, tearing them apart with my hands. One's throat was ripped out—blood sprayed my face, hot and sticky. Another's head I crushed—its skull popped, brains oozing down my fingers. My team held strong: swords flashed, severing limbs, piercing hearts. Rick, Alpha-6, drove his blade into a creature's gut, ripping upward—intestines spilled, tangling around his legs. Lina, Alpha-7, slashed another's neck, its head dangling by a flap of skin, swinging like a pendulum.
"Alpha-0, there's a fork ahead," Tom called, pointing to two tunnels. "Which way?"
"Left," I said, catching the strongest whiff of rot. I sniffed the air like a wolf on the hunt. "They're there. A lot of them."
The tunnel opened into a massive cavern. The floor was littered with bones—human, animal, old, and fresh, with scraps of rotting flesh. In the center stood massive doors carved into the rock, cracked and etched with symbols radiating ancient malice. The creatures—two or three dozen, older and stronger than those at the entrance—stood before the doors, their eyes burning brighter, claws gouging the stone.
"Alpha-1, this is Alpha-0. Prepare the flanks. I'm taking the center," I said, clenching my fists.
"Copy," Michael replied, and the team split. Sage nodded to me, her sword already bloodied but held firm. Jeremy grinned, tossing his helmet aside—his scarred face burned with rage.
I stepped forward, and the vampires rushed me. The first died instantly—my fist punched through its skull, brains spraying backward like dirty water. The second slashed my side with its claws, but I grabbed its arm, snapped it at the elbow—bone jutted out, a white shard—and drove its head into the floor, pulping it. My team hit the flanks: Michael cleaved two in one swing, their bodies collapsing, spilling black sludge. Sage pierced one's heart, yanking her blade out through its side—ribs cracked, blood gushing like a fountain. Jeremy, snarling, drove his sword into a creature's gut, ripping upward—entrails slapped the ground, and he kicked them aside, laughing hoarsely, wildly.
The slaughter unfolded in full force. The air thickened with the stench of blood, rot, and dust. I grabbed a large one—gray, with spikes on its back—clenched its throat, and lifted it off the ground. It clawed the air, but I snapped its neck with a loud crunch and hurled it into the crowd—bodies fell like pins, bones cracking. Kyle, Alpha-8, smashed another's head with his fist—his knuckle-duster amplified the blow, the skull shattering like a clay pot. Sam, Alpha-9, severed a creature's arm, finishing it with a strike to the nape—blood coated his visor, but he shook it off, moving on.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-1," Michael's voice cut through the noise. "Perimeter's almost clear. Leftovers at the doors."
"Finish them," I said, approaching the doors. My hand rested on the stone, and I struck. My fist hit, cracks spiderwebbing across the surface. A second blow—the doors shuddered, dust falling. A third—and they collapsed inward with a roar, raising a cloud of stone fragments.
Beyond the doors was a vast, dark hall, its ceiling lost in shadow. In the center stood a figure—tall, in a tattered cloak, with eyes glowing white. An Elder. Not just a vampire, but something more. Behind him were rusty cages with human shadows inside. Alive. Broken. His personal chamber?
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-4," Sage's voice was firm but uneasy. "What is that thing?"
"Answers," I said, clenching my fists. The team lined up behind me, swords gleaming, breathing in sync with mine. "He'll give them."
He stirred, his voice—low, hissing—echoing through the hall:
"You don't know what you're dealing with, boy."
I smiled.
He lunged, bone-tipped tendrils erupting from under his cloak, sharp as spears. First time I'd seen such a thing, but from the stories, every creature over a century old had monstrous power. And this was monstrous power? What an abomination.
I dodged the first tendril, caught the second, and crushed it—black blood sprayed, hissing on the floor. He howled, striking with two more—one grazed my ribs, but I spun, punching the air. The shockwave threw him against the wall, his cloak tearing to reveal scarred gray skin. He dug in with his claws, baring fangs, and leaped again. I caught him mid-air, gripped his throat, and slammed him down—the floor cracked, blood spurting from his mouth.
He raised a hand, and red, bony spikes shot from the ground. One grazed my leg, my blood dripped, and his eyes flared with greed. He could pierce me? Interesting. The others couldn't. But then, the others didn't have spikes like these.
I hadn't expected him to breach my defenses, but it changed nothing. Wounds hadn't scared me in a long time.
He charged, claws and tendrils a whirlwind. I blocked, dodged, caught his arm, and snapped it—bone jutted out. He struck with a spiked tendril to my chest, throwing me into a pillar—the stone cracked behind me. I straightened, rushed him, tore a tendril out with a meaty rip, broke his other arm, and pinned him to the wall, smashing his head against the stone. His body went limp, but his eyes still burned.
My eyes ignited.
Weak.
A laser struck his nerve endings, and his spine gave out.
Just a head.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-1," Michael's voice came through. "Tie him up?"
"Yes," I said, releasing the Elder. He collapsed, wheezing. It might not be necessary, but who knows. Maybe he could regenerate, though other vampires couldn't recover from this. Strange creatures. Limbs regrew, but finer things like nerves couldn't heal. "We'll interrogate him at the base. Check the cages—get the living out, leave the dead. And fly out far. I'm burning this place."
"Copy."
Jeremy approached, spitting on the floor.
"Lousy fighter."
"Good enough for answers," I replied. The fight died down. Now, the truth.
---
The hall fell silent, save for the team's heavy breathing and faint moans from the cages. The Elder lay against the wall, his broken but still-living body twitching in an attempt to rise. His white eyes dimmed, but a deep, ancient malice still smoldered within them, as old as the cave itself. Perhaps older than this place. I wiped the blood from my face—his blood, black and caustic, leaving a burning trail on my skin. My blood boiled in response, urging me to finish him, but my mind—the one whispering in Ellis's voice—held my hand. Answers. They were more important.
"Alpha-1, this is Alpha-0," I said, not taking my eyes off the Elder. "Bind him tightly. Use the chains from the arsenal—the ones with thermal enhancement. He shouldn't move."
"Copy," Michael replied. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he pulled clinking chains from his pack. Forged specifically for these creatures, the chains heated upon resistance, searing flesh to the bone. Ellis's students' design. The Elder hissed as the metal touched his skin but didn't flinch—too weak, or perhaps too cunning.
Sage approached the cages, her sword still in hand, its blade gleaming with fresh blood. She kicked a rusty grate, and it gave way with a clang. Inside were three people—two men and a woman, their bodies caked in dirt and bruises, their clothes reduced to rags. They huddled together, their eyes empty but alive, glinting with fear and hope. Sage lowered her sword, her voice softening:
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-4. There are survivors. Three. Severely malnourished but breathing. What do we do with them?"
"Get them out," I said. "Give them water and check their wounds. If they can talk, question them. I need to know what they've seen."
Sam and Lina joined Sage, pulling the prisoners out. One man, gray-haired with a face carved by wrinkles, tried to speak but only croaked. Lina held a flask to his lips, water trickling down his chin, mixing with dirt. The woman, young, with broken nails, stared at me—not at the team, but directly at me. Her gaze was strange, as if she saw more than the others. I stepped closer, and she flinched but didn't look away.
"Do you know who I am?" I asked, crouching before her. My voice, childish and breaking, cut through the silence. She nodded faintly.
"I heard…" she whispered, her voice trembling like a dry leaf in the wind. "They talked… about a boy… who flies… and burns… their kind…"
"What else?" I leaned closer, catching her scent—fear, blood, and something chemical, like Ellis's markers. Had they bitten her?
"They were waiting for you," she breathed. "This… it's a trap. Not for us. For you."
I stood, feeling the hairs on my neck rise. A trap. Not for the team, not for random victims, but for me. The Elder made a sound—low, gurgling, like laughter. I turned to him, fists clenched so hard my knuckles cracked.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-1," Michael's voice came through the comms. "He's secured. Chains are holding. What's next?"
"Load him onto the helicopter," I said, not breaking eye contact with the Elder. "And the three survivors too. We're leaving. I'm blowing this place."
Jeremy, sheathing his sword, approached the Elder and kicked him in the side, making the creature hiss.
"Shitty trap if he's just a sack of bones now," he muttered, but his voice carried tension. He felt it too—something was off.
The team moved toward the exit, dragging the Elder and supporting the survivors. The helicopter's hum grew louder, approaching. I stayed in the hall alone, staring at the shattered doors, the bones, the traces of the slaughter. The stench of rot was unbearable now, mixed with something new—a sharp, metallic tang, like an overheated engine. I looked up, my eyes heating, and a thin beam of light shot from them, hitting the ceiling. The stone hissed, melting, as the first drops of molten rock fell, igniting the remains.
The fire grew, consuming everything—bones, blood, shadows. I walked toward the exit, feeling the heat lick my back. But the woman's words echoed in my head: A trap. For you. I stopped at the entrance, turning back. The flames rose higher, but in the depths of the hall, beyond the fallen doors, something moved. A shadow. No, not a shadow—a figure, shorter than the Elder, in a suit, with eyes glowing not white but red, like molten metal. It stood motionless, staring at me through the fire. A white-haired young man, holding a cane.
"Alpha-0, this is Alpha-2," Tom's voice broke through, alarmed.
"Something's on the radar. Right below us. It's… big. Just appeared…"
"Get out," I snapped, not taking my eyes off the figure. "Now!"
The helicopter swayed, climbing, but I felt the ground tremble beneath my feet. The trap hadn't sprung when we entered but now, when we thought we'd won. The figure stepped forward, the fire parting before it, and I saw it fully—an ordinary man, save for the white hair, in a suit with a cane, striding toward me as the flames parted like loyal servants.
Another Elder vampire? Something worse. Perhaps a mystical Ancient, as the younger creatures had spoken of. Their hierarchy was peculiar…
"You came," his voice boomed, low and thunderous. "As planned."
I smiled wider than usual. My mind surged, craving battle. My eyes blazed. I hadn't fought at full strength all this time, but maybe this dandy would force me to use even a fraction of my power.
"Show me everything you've got," I said, stepping toward him.
The fire vanished, the ground cracked, and the creature lunged at me, aiming its cane straight at my face.
A rush.
---