Ethan knelt beside Galeno, his red hair falling into his eyes as he placed a trembling hand on the tortoise's fractured shell. The heartbeat that had once thudded like an unshakable mountain was now faint and fragile. His companion, the Heavenly Tortoise, was dying—and there was nothing Ethan could do.
Desperation gripped him. The bloodlust from his recent evolution into a Vampire Primogenitor still lingered, but Ethan's only focus was saving Galeno. Not after everything they'd been through.
Trevor, still reeling from their shared transformation, staggered to his feet, watching Ethan with concern. His Death Skull spirit beast hovered nearby, its eerie red eyes observing the scene in silence. But all Ethan could hear was Galeno's labored breathing, each exhale a painful reminder of his companion's fading life force.
Suddenly, the cold voice of the system interrupted his thoughts.
**New potential spirit beast detected. Compatibility 85%. Potential bonding available. Potential Spirit beast's core damaged—special conditions apply. Proceed? **
Bonding with Galeno? Panic surged in Ethan's chest. Could he even—?
**Warning: Potential Spirit beast core fading. Bonding must occur within 10 seconds. Failure will result in spirit beast's demise. **
"I'll do it," Ethan whispered, his voice barely audible, but the system responded instantly.
**Initiating forced affinity expansion. Warning: Earth affinity incompatible with current Telekinesis core. Painful process. Proceed? **
"Yes!" Ethan shouted, the word leaving his mouth just as a wave of agony exploded through his body.
His telekinesis core—once weightless and steady—shattered and twisted as a foreign, solid force, the Earth affinity, invaded him. Ethan's scream echoed across the floating island as he collapsed, his body convulsing violently. The system was reshaping his core, forcing his very essence to accept Earth's elemental power.
His bones felt like they were filled with molten lead; his veins burned as if filled with liquid fire. The Earth itself seemed to bend toward him, recognizing his presence in a way he'd never felt before. As the pain built to an unbearable peak, a strange calmness settled over him—a grounding, primal connection to the Earth.
**Core expansion: 85%... 100%. Awakening Earth affinity. **
Just as he thought the agony would tear him apart, a shimmering stone formed from Galeno's essence, swirling with raw Earth energy.
**Awakening Stone formed. Absorption required. Commence? **
Ethan, gasping for breath, reached for the stone. The moment his fingers closed around it, it dissolved into glowing particles and merged with his body. A final wave of pain surged through him as the Earth affinity fused with his telekinesis core. His connection to the ground deepened; the earth felt like a natural extension of himself.
**Spirit Beast Bond complete. Synchronizing cores." **
Galeno's life force flowed into him as their bond solidified. The tortoise's wounds closed, and its massive form stirred, its eyes glowing with a faint, vampiric light.
Ethan stood, his body heavy with the weight of his newfound power. He flexed his fingers, feeling the steady pulse of both the Earth and Telekinesis within him. Galeno, fully healed, rose beside him, their connection deeper than ever before.
Far away, across the world, vampires paused, feeling a subtle but undeniable tremor in their cores. In the dark, hidden corners of the world, ancient vampires—those who had lived for millennia—felt it too. An unsettling shift in the natural order.
The Primogenitors had awakened.
And the world would soon know their names.
...
In a dark, cavernous hall deep beneath the mountains, the Gargoyle Elders gathered. Their stone faces, chiseled by centuries of existence, were etched with a mixture of fury and apprehension. Flames from ancient braziers cast flickering shadows, reflecting the turmoil brewing within them. At the head of the grand, obsidian table sat the Chief Elder, Azgarn. His blackened wings, scarred from battles long past, were folded behind him, but his yellow, reptilian eyes blazed with barely contained rage.
"Elder Estril is dead," Azgarn's voice was low, rumbling like a distant earthquake, the weight of the words settling heavily on the room. "Drained by the hands of those abominations—the Primogenitors."
The elders shifted uneasily in their seats. Some, like 1st Elder Reed, clenched their fists in anger. Others, like Variel, an ancient female gargoyle who had marble skin remained eerily silent, eyes narrowed in thought.
"They were barely fledglings when they faced Estril!" Reed spat, his long, clawed fingers curling into the stone of the table. "Yet they killed him like he was nothing. What are we dealing with? What kind of power do they wield?"
Azgarn's gaze flicked to Reed, silencing him with a glare. "These are not mere vampires. They are the Primogenitors—vampires of legend. The ones from whom the entire race was born." His voice was calm but deadly, like the edge of a blade held against the throat.
A heavy silence fell upon the elders. The weight of the situation pressed down on them like a suffocating fog. They had underestimated Ethan and Trevor, thinking their transformation into vampires would make them easy prey, weakened by the instability of their newfound powers. But they were wrong. Deadly wrong.
Azgarn stood, his towering form casting a long shadow over the gathered elders. "We have only one chance to stop them before they realize the full extent of their powers. They may not yet know what they are capable of, but soon, they will. And when they do, there will be no stopping them."
Variel, her voice a whisper of crumbling stone, finally spoke. "How do we kill that which is born of immortality?" Her question lingered in the air, a reminder of the sheer impossibility of their task.
"Their power may be legendary," Azgarn growled, "but legends are built on the bones of those who fall. And fall they will." He raised his hand, and from the darkened alcoves surrounding the chamber, figures stepped forward—ancient gargoyles, draped in cloaks, their faces hidden behind iron masks. The Inquisitors.
The Inquisitors were the elite hunters of the gargoyle race, trained for centuries to destroy even the most powerful of beings. They moved silently, their presence chilling the air around them. Their leader, Drevan, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming beneath the mask.
"We will hunt them," Drevan's voice was like the scraping of stone on metal, harsh and emotionless. "We will strike when they least expect it, and we will cut their throats before they even realize what we are."
Azgarn nodded, satisfaction briefly flickering across his stony face. "Good. But there's more at play here than just strength. We need information—weaknesses we can exploit. The Primogenitors may be strong, but even they cannot be invincible."
"How do you propose we gather such information?" Reed asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.
"We have our ways," Azgarn said, his lips curling into a dark smile. "There are creatures in this world older and more dangerous than vampires. Creatures who despise them. And for the right price, they will tell us what we need to know."
The elders murmured in agreement, but the tension in the room remained thick. They knew the danger they faced. They were about to go up against forces beyond their comprehension. Ethan and Trevor, despite their youth, held a power that could reshape the world. And if they could not stop them now, there would be no stopping them ever.
"Prepare your hunters," Azgarn commanded. "We strike soon. Let them enjoy their newfound power for now, but it will be short-lived. The moment they show their faces again, we will be there."
Drevan bowed his head. "As you wish, Chief Elder."
As the Inquisitors melted back into the shadows, Azgarn leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the cold stone table. "This world does not need new Primogenitors," he whispered, more to himself than the others. "It needs control. And control we shall have."
The meeting ended, but the tension in the air remained. The Gargoyle Elders had made their decision. They would go to war against the new Primogenitors, even if it meant risking everything.
...
Far from the dark, brooding halls of the Gargoyle Elders, under the soft glow of the moonlight, Clara lay awake in her bed.
In the quiet of the night, Clara lay in her bed, unable to sleep. The soft glow of the moon bathed the room in a silvery light, illuminating her silvery blonde hair as it spilled over the pillow in delicate waves. Her blue eyes, wide open, stared at the ceiling, yet her mind was far away, drifting to thoughts of him—of Ethan.
She sighed softly, rolling onto her side as her heart fluttered at the mere thought of his name. There was something about him, something that always lingered in the back of her mind, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. It wasn't that he did anything remarkable or grand—no, it was the way he made her feel. The warmth in his smile, the gentleness in his eyes, the way his presence seemed to quiet all the noise in the world.
Clara closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her. She remembered the first time their paths had crossed. It had been so unexpected, yet so perfect, like fate had woven their lives together in a single moment. His laughter had been contagious, his voice low and soothing, and she had found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn't explain.
The corners of her lips curved into a soft smile as she remembered his laugh. It was a sound she cherished, one that seemed to echo in her heart long after the moment had passed. She could picture his face now—his unruly red hair, the way his eyes seemed to light up when he spoke to her, the slight flush on his cheeks when she teased him. There was an easiness between them, a comfort that had grown without either of them realizing it.
Clara turned onto her back, her heart beating a little faster as her thoughts wandered deeper. What was he doing now? Was he thinking of her too? The idea sent a thrill through her, and she hugged her pillow close to her chest. She couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same pull, the same warmth when he thought of her.
Her white fox stirred beside her, its soft fur brushing against her hand. She absentmindedly stroked its back, but her mind was far away. She wanted to see him, to hear his voice, to feel that quiet sense of belonging she always felt in his presence. Every moment apart from him seemed to stretch, the distance between them growing unbearable, even though she knew it was only in her mind.
What was it about him that made her feel this way? She had met many people in her life, but none of them had ever made her heart ache the way Ethan did. It wasn't just his looks, though she found him handsome in that boyish, unassuming way. No, it was something deeper—something in the way he saw the world, the way he looked at her like she was the only person that mattered.
Clara sighed again, shifting in bed as the moonlight spilled across her face. She missed him. It was a strange thing to admit, but it was true. She missed him even though they hadn't spent much time together lately. There was something in the quiet moments they shared, in the way he would stand close to her, or the way his hand would brush hers, that made her feel alive, seen, in a way no one else did.
Her heart fluttered at the memory of their last meeting, the way he had looked at her as if he wanted to say something but didn't. She had felt it too—an unspoken connection, something hanging in the air between them, electric and thrilling. The thought of it now sent a shiver through her, and she couldn't help but smile to herself.
She wondered if she should tell him how she felt, if she should be the one to cross the distance that seemed to keep them apart. But doubt crept in—what if he didn't feel the same? What if she had imagined it all?
But no, she couldn't believe that. Not with the way his eyes softened when they met hers, the way his voice changed when he spoke to her, quieter, gentler. There was something there, she knew it. She could feel it in her bones.
Clara sat up in bed, pulling the blankets around her as she gazed out the window at the starry sky. The night was so still, so quiet, yet her heart was anything but. It beat with the rhythm of longing, with the undeniable pull of something she couldn't quite name.
She loved him. She hadn't admitted it to herself before, not fully, but now, in the stillness of the night, with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, the truth was clear. She loved Ethan.
The realization sent a rush of warmth through her, but it was followed by a pang of uncertainty. What did it mean to love someone who might never know how you feel? What did it mean to carry this secret in her heart, hoping, waiting, for the moment when she might finally know if he felt the same?
But for now, she would keep her secret close, savoring the sweetness of it, even as it kept her awake in the dark hours of the night. She would hold on to the hope that, one day, she wouldn't have to wonder anymore—that one day, she and Ethan would stand together, no more distance between them, no more unspoken words.
Until then, Clara lay back down, her heart full of love, even as the weight of it kept sleep at bay.
And with all this thinking, they were just rooms apart from each other, nothing much and she knew. As her mind drifted, she suddenly sat up in bed. She had just remembered someone, a very dangerous person who could jeopardize her relationship with Ethan, Harley.
"I must make the first move. No time for excuses and shyness. But I'm afraid... it doesn't matter. I will take his first as I did with the kiss."