Eternal Lord of Blood

Exalt, one of the six moons orbiting Gaia, bathed the cosmos in its crimson glow. Unbeknownst to all, a formidable entity slumbered within its core, stirring fear across the galaxies.

On a fateful day, Exalt trembled, its surface fracturing. The desolate moon, devoid of life for millennia, heralded the awakening of its creator.

**CRACK**

A cacophonous roar echoed as miles of the lunar surface shattered, flung into the void. An immense crater sprawled across the landscape, at its heart a tempest of blood-red fury.

The storm swelled, devouring the moon's residual Blood energy. It soared beyond the atmosphere, yet no disturbance was felt; a potent magical ward quelled the tumult.

Minutes later, the maelstrom waned, contracting from a colossal expanse to a mere ten meters. It morphed, assuming a humanoid silhouette. A heart emerged, eerily still.

Organs materialized, followed by a skeletal frame. Muscles wove themselves around bone, and skin cloaked the nascent form. Revealed was a man of six feet, his complexion fair, his angular visage crowned with silver locks that cascaded to his shoulders. His physique, divine in its perfection, could incite envy in the gods themselves.

As he opened his eyes, a vibrant red to match the moon, it was as if a transcendent being had descended. His mere presence oppressed the very air.

The absence of his heartbeat drew a frown. With a gesture, a radiant light surged from afar, revealing a throne in its embrace. The light dissipated, leaving the throne before him.

Memories flooded back, tinged with regret. "Selene, you were right. In my complacency, I failed to heed your words. What folly..." His voice trailed off, the weight of his desires—a near-impossible wish—bearing down upon him.

He caressed the throne, which vibrated and liquified into a single drop of golden essence. "Even in leaving your Essence blood, do I merit your sacrifices?"

The drop pulsed, as if in response, and plunged into his chest, reviving the dormant heart.

**Thump—Thump**

He listened intently to the rhythm, akin to a lover's serenade. "To you, my greatest debtor, I vow to rend the heavens or delve into hell's depths to reclaim what was lost. Those responsible shall soon plead for mercy."

With a snap, the remaining blood transmuted into a sleek, black attire.

"Not even a tenth of my prime, yet it would be folly to act hastily. Preparations must precede action." He conjured a ring and a pair of cross-shaped earrings, donning them to suppress his powers.

"Am I weakening myself excessively? Only time will tell."

He surveyed Exalt, once a beacon of worship, now barren. "Time alters all, yet this change is not permanent."

His gaze pierced the cosmos, seeking. A frown creased his brow. "No Purebloods? What has transpired?" A solitary presence caught his attention. "Blood Art—Rend." With those words, he vanished.

_______

Mawburn, a lawless haven for outcasts and criminals, knew no discrimination—save for the vampires. Branded as malevolent parasites, they languished at society's nadir, their rights nonexistent.

In a forsaken alley, two inebriated men cornered a 'fragile' girl, her figure a temptation despite her concealed visage.

"Comply, or face the consequences," taunted one, brandishing a chain.

"You'll enjoy it," leered the other, needles poised.

Her warning, "Leave, or perish," was met with derision—until both men collapsed, silenced by an unseen force.

"Reveal yourself!" she demanded, her voice echoing unanswered.

A voice from the shadows chilled her. "Your name?"

"Ysabelle," she replied, her fear rendering her immobile.

"Your full name."

She resisted, but darkness enveloped her, warping her sense of time. "Ysabelle Silvermoon," she finally confessed.

"Silvermoon... Fortunate, for your clan served me well. Your lineage spares you."

As the darkness lifted, she beheld a visage of unforgettable allure.

"Who are you?" she inquired, regaining her composure.

"Azriel," he declared, expecting reverence that never came.

"Should I know you?" Her perplexed gaze left him at a loss.

"You don't recognize me?" His outcry startled even the stray dogs.
_____