As I lost consciousness on the battlefield, the world around me faded into darkness. I couldn't feel the burning pain in my body anymore.
The roar of explosions and gunfire slowly dissipated, leaving behind an eerie silence. The blackness swallowed me whole, and for a moment, I felt nothing—no pain, no fear, no hope. Just an empty void.
Then, slowly, the darkness gave way to light. I found myself standing in a place that hadn't been seen in centuries—Sparta, the city of warriors, the capital of ancient Sparta.
The city was thriving, its golden fields of grain swaying gently in the warm breeze, the sunlight bathing everything in a golden hue.
The streets were alive with people, young and old, all dressed in their traditional garments. The men wore simple tunics, their bronze-colored skin glistening with sweat as they trained or worked in the fields.
The women were draped in flowing chitons, their hair tied back as they went about their daily tasks. Children ran through the streets, their laughter filling the air. It was a scene of prosperity and strength, a testament to the enduring legacy of Sparta.
I began to walk through the city In a trance, my feet moving almost of their own accord. As I passed by the people, I noticed something strange—they didn't see me.
It was as if I was invisible, a ghost walking among the living. The bustling city around me continued its routine, oblivious to my presence.
My steps took me higher and higher, up toward the Acropolis, the heart of the city. I passed through the inner walls, where the super-heavily armed royal Spartan hoplites stood guard. Their eyes were fixed ahead, their faces stern and unyielding, yet none of them acknowledged my presence. It was as if I was nothing more than a phantom to them.
I followed the sound of clashing weapons and grunts of exertion. My steps brought me to a large training area where Spartan boys and girls, no older than fifteen and no younger than 7, were engaged in the grueling training of the Agoge.
The air was filled with the sounds of battle—the thudding of fists, the clash of wooden swords, the grunts of effort as the young Spartans pushed their bodies to the limit.
I watched as they fought, their movements precise and deadly, a display of raw power and discipline.
But my attention was drawn to one figure in particular—a tall middleaged man In this timeline, 180 centimeters tall, his body covered in rippling, bulky muscles.
His bronze skin was marred with grotesque scars, each one a testament to countless battles fought and won. He wore nothing but a simple made out of wrapped around cloth, his powerful frame exposed for all to see.
Without warning, the man's gaze locked onto me. His eyes were filled with a fire that I recognized all too well—the fire of a warrior.
Before I could react, he lunged at me, his fist crashing into my jaw with the force of a battering ram. The impact sent me staggering backward, my head spinning from the blow.
I barely had time to process what was happening before the man was on me again, his fists pounding into my pre gene resequencing body with relentless fury.
I tried to fight back, but it was like trying to fight a hurricane. No matter how much experience and skill I had, it didn't matter—I was no match for this monster of a man.
The blows kept coming, each one more brutal than the last. My body screamed in pain, but I couldn't stop him. I couldn't even lift a finger to defend myself. I was helpless, completely at his mercy.
"Is that it? Is that all you got boy?"
The man asked, his rough, authoritative voice grinding in my ears, worn down by years of shouting commands.
I looked up at him through a haze of blood and sweat, my vision blurred, and for a moment, I froze. Despite the black lush beard and the shining head, the man's face was eerily similar to mine—too similar to be a coincidence.
"I said, are you giving up, boy?!"
The man roared as he delivered another sickening punch to my face, causing me to spit out a mouthful of blood.
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My body was broken, my spirit shattered. All I could do was lie there, my face pressed into the dirt as the man continued to pummel me without mercy.
"Not talking huh boy?!"
He barked, his voice filled with contempt.
"You have a duty! You have a duty to your queen, who is about to die! You have a duty to your warriors, who are waiting for you In the coldness of space! You are the legacy of Olympus! You are the legacy of Sparta and the Agiad dynasty! My blood flows through your veins, and it's even mixed with the blood of Vikings! And you made a g*ddamn promise, man keeps his promises so stop being a p*ssy and tuck In youre balls or Is that sausage between youre legs just for show boy?"
The man's words cut through the fog in my mind like a knife. It all sounded crazy—this talk of legacies and bloodlines—but there was something in his voice that struck a chord deep within me.
"My body It's beyond broken..."
Hearing my muttering, the man's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in his gaze.
"You also have the blood of something else, boy,"
He hissed.
"You know it, too. Remember all those times you felt an inextinguishable thirst? The times when you demonstrated prowess far beyond what you were built to have? And that wish… that desire to sink your teeth into human flesh In the heat of a battle?"
As he spoke, memories I had no Idea I had came rushing back to the surface. Moments of inexplicable strength, of a hunger that couldn't be sated by food or drink… it all made sense now. Those mad f*cks had erased part of my memories, but the truth had always been there, lurking in the shadows of my mind.
The sound of blood dripping into an ocean of blood filled my ears, a haunting symphony that echoed through my thoughts. It was a sound I knew well—a sound that had haunted my subconscious mind from the moment I was brought back to life as a cosmic marine.
And then, without thinking, words slipped from my lips, words that felt as old as time itself…
"Blood Is Life"
Warning! Warning!
Hosts locked memories had been forcefully unlocked!
Attempting to lock them again!
Failed!
Warning! Warning!
Hosts biomechanical cells are out of control!
Warning! Warning!
The biomechanical cells count Is approaching the critical stage!
Releasing biomechanical cells suppressant!
The AI talked to Itself as It released the suppressants hidden Inside Draculas cybernetic Implants that also stored the combat stimulants.
While black blood vessels started spreading all over Dracula's charred skin up to his eyes whose scleras became pitch black as his canines elongated while his muscles and flesh started regenerating at naked eye visible speed.
Just as his surviving ear was about to elongate It stopped along with his regenerating body parts as the suppressants finally did their magic.
Biomechanical cells have been administered successfully.
Warning! Warning!
Hosts life Is In danger!
Host life overwrites order 66!
Releasing additional combat stimulants!
Releasing electric shock!
As the AI released a light current through Dracula's whole body from a special cybernetic Implant the man opened his eyes and stood up like an evil spirit from a horror movie.
MC POV
Yeah, I promised her a world didn't I?