Deep inside the tunnel,was a large space which seemed to be a village.
The air in the tunnel was thick with smoke and dust, and the warmth of the fire was the only comfort left in the hollow belly of a ruined world. The stone chamber, carved deep beneath the Earth's ashen crust, echoed with the whispers of lost time. Around a glowing fire, children gathered—skin pale from years below the surface, eyes wide with curiosity and fear.
Upon a jagged rock sat the village head—ancient, motionless, yet undeniably powerful. His long, grey hair flowed down his shoulders like cracked silk, and his skin was etched with the scars of centuries. But what drew the eyes of the children, what held their breath in silence, were his eyes—crimson red, glowing softly in the firelight like two dying embers.
He looked over them like a father might gaze at his last remaining children.
"You ask about the world before the Ashing," he began, voice rough like stone dragged across steel. "Let me show you what was lost."
He raised a weathered hand and gestured to the tunnel walls as if the shadows might replay the past.
"Earth… she was alive. The cities… glittered with light. Skyscrapers touched the stars, woven with crystal glass and veins of glowing energy. People danced across floating platforms, flew in ships above oceans, and spoke across worlds with machines smaller than their palms. They played, they laughed, they wasted time… because time felt endless then."
The children's eyes widened. They could barely imagine such a world.
"Forests breathed, mountains sang with the wind, and technology made miracles every day. Artificial suns kept crops blooming year-round. Artificial intelligence taught children to read and taught the deaf to hear. A paradise shaped by human hands."
He paused, and his eyes darkened.
"But the truth was always hidden… behind it all, behind the curtain of peace and progress… were we. The vampires."
He spoke the word not with shame—but pride.
"We were not monsters. We were guardians. Made by our God—not the one the mortals came to worship… no, our God. The Creator of hope,wisdom and demons, second to the supreme God of God's. Lucifer morningstar is his name." His voice rang with reverence. "Not the Devil they mock him as today… that was the slander whispered by our brothers—the demons."
He stood now, tall for his age, with an old strength buried beneath layers of time.
"Lucifer was the First Light. Not a god of punishment, but a god of knowledge, balance, and free will. He birthed us to protect humanity—his beloved creation—from the predators of the void. We walked beside mortals, shielded them from terrors beyond stars. We loved them… and many of us even gave up our immortality to live among them."
"But the demons…" His voice became a growl. "They were born from the same God. Yet they rebelled. They wanted to rule, not guide. They twisted faith, turning it into chains. And worst of all—they whispered lies into the ears of mortals… until they believed Lucifer morningstar, our Father, was a devil."
The fire cracked loud as if reacting to his anger.
"The mortals who was brainwashed called themselves followers of the 'God of Light,Christianity,and children of God they called the God of Light son of the supreme God, They served the God known as Jesus Christ who is the God of Light second to our God. But it was only an alias… a mask for domination. They travelled world to world, spreading their gospel, not of peace… but conquest. And one by one, the mortals turned away from our God. They stopped giving Him faith." all these things were planned by Jesus Christ who was jealous for Lucifer was stronger than him and he knew as a God that a god without faith fuelling him is bound to be weak.
He knelt beside the fire now, dragging a coal from the flame and drawing a sigil on the ground.
"And as the ages passed, He weakened. With only a few still loyal, He was vulnerable. That was when the War of Heavens began. The demons, with their army of gods who embraced tyranny, struck. And only a few gods stood by Lucifer's side. The rest… cowards. Or worse—traitors."
The children trembled.
"Our God… our beloved Father… he was torn apart. But before his soul shattered across the multiverse, he laughed." The old man smiled faintly, almost madly. "He looked at the gods who helped him —his faithful, his warriors—and said:
'My successor will come and find you. Remember to give him all the help he needs.
For this war...."' He laughed in death The war…'"
The old man raised his head, eyes flaring like torches.
'…has only just begun!' He shouted and blasted into pieces by the God of Light.
A shock of silence. Even the wind outside the tunnel paused to listen.
"And then," the old man whispered, "He burst into fragments… his soul scattered across stars, planets, and forgotten dimensions."
He turned to the children.
"And now… only our village remains. The last of the vampire race. The last who still remember the truth. The demons hunted us for our loyalty. And when the Great Ashing came… they finished the job. Only we survived. Here. Underground."
Suddenly, the chamber stirred. A presence.
From the tunnel mouth, a figure approached. A boy. Young. Hair red as flame, eyes full of questions. He had been standing in the shadows, listening.
And then—a blink.
°~[Ding!]~°
°~["Knowledge of the First Ragnarok +1000 EXP obtained."]~°
°~[Congratulation! You have leveled up.]~°
°~[Congratulations! You have leveled up.]~°
°~[Congratulations! You have leveled up.]~°
°~[Congratulations! You have leveled up.]~°
The old man froze.
He stared at the boy as the air around him rippled with awakened energy.
"whose there" he shouted. His village doesn't receive visitors only a particular race does out off spite. That aura... His a mixed blood human and demon"
Without hesitation, he slammed the butt of his staff against the ground.
"All guards! Ready yourselves!" he barked. "Warriors to the front! Prepare the blood rites!"
Men and women surged from the sides of the chamber, armored in scraps of steel and ancient runes, grabbing blades and loading relic rifles.
The old man stepped forward, eyes narrowed, staring at the red-haired boy.
"You… who are you?" he asked, though in his heart, he already knew.
E999 tilted his head, then smiled—small, distant, knowing.
"Whoa—calm down," the boy said, raising his hands. "I'm just passing by—"
But before E999 could finish, a claw of red energy slashed through the air toward him—sharp, burning, and deadly. Mana condensed into talons, sent by one of the village men who had already leapt into attack formation.
E999 twisted his body to the side, dodging just in time. The claw hissed past him, cutting into the rock behind with an explosive crack. Shards flew.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I said I wasn't hostile—!"
He surged forward, deciding talking was pointless. His footwork blurred, and in a flash he closed the distance between him and the attacker, fist cocked to strike—
But then—
Nothing.
No sound. No presence. No warning.
The world around him blinked.
And the old man was suddenly right there—in front of him.
E999's eyes widened.
Too fast.
A palm struck the side of his neck with deadly precision—right over the carotid artery. A surgical strike. E999 didn't even feel the impact before the wave of numbness crashed through him.
His muscles locked.
His vision blurred.
"Wha…"
Darkness rushed in like a collapsing tunnel, swallowing his thoughts, his strength, his senses.
He collapsed. Limbs limp. Breath shallow.
Silence returned to the chamber.
The old man stood over him, eyes glowing in the flicker of the fire, his long cloak drifting to rest around his feet.
"Take his body to the storage," he said, voice cold, ancient, final.
Two villagers stepped forward at once, lifting the unconscious boy carefully but without sympathy. His head lolled. Blood trickled from where the strike had cracked skin.
The children stared wide-eyed. Some gasped. One whispered, "He didn't even get to fight…"
The old man didn't look at them. He just turned, facing the deeper shadows of the cave, his voice low as he muttered:
As the villagers carried E999's unconscious body through the tunnel, the old man turned to the others gathered near the fire—his crimson gaze sweeping over the children, the warriors, the stone walls echoing with history and silence.
His voice rumbled, low and deep, ancient power lacing every word.
"We shall use his blood as food this month," he declared. "And complete the Ritual of Awakening."
A gasp ran through the crowd. The children shrank back, unsure. The warriors stood straighter. A few among them began whispering prayers—not to the God of Light, but to Him—their true creator, broken across the stars.
The old man raised a hand, silencing them all.
"This boy… he is a half-blood. Mortal and demon. I felt it in the mana—unstable, raw, unrefined… yet potent. His blood is not fully ours, but partially. A fusion or mistake maybe for all i know the demons must have slaughtered all mortals."
He turned toward the children seated on the rocks, some trembling, some staring at the lifeless body being dragged away.
"You, young ones... You shall drink. And you shall transform."
His voice grew louder, echoing like thunder through the cavern.
"For too long we have remained hidden. Too long we have watched the ashes fall, the stars grow quiet, the demons rule above. But no more."
He pointed toward the dark corridor where E999 was taken.
"With his blood, and your bodies—we will create a new generation. Stronger. Sharper. Resistant to the sun, to the divine, to the poisons of the new world. You will not be mere vampires…"
He paused—then whispered, almost in reverence:
"You will be kings."
The fire flared unnaturally as if reacting to the declaration. Crimson sparks danced through the smoke like falling embers from a dying world.
A young girl, no older than ten, raised her hand slowly.
"But… but what if he wakes up?"
The old man turned to her, a slow smile crawling onto his face.
"He will. And when he does, either he will serve us willingly or … or be drained dry."
He turned on his heel.
"Prepare the Circle. Heat the bloodstones. Tonight, we drink."
And as the children were led away, and the stone altar was prepared,tomorrow will birth the future of the vampires.