Sleep was impossible.
Damian lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the whisper.
"You are not safe."
And that name—Lucian.
Who was he? Why did the message tell him to find him? And most importantly… who was coming for him?
Every instinct screamed that whatever was happening wasn't random. It was connected—to the stranger at the university, to his past, to the blood that ran in his veins.
The air in his apartment felt heavy, like something unseen was pressing against it. He turned his head to glance at the clock. 2:47 AM.
He exhaled and sat up, rubbing his face.
Sleep wasn't coming.
He reached for his phone and hesitated. What was he even supposed to do? Google "Lucian" and hope for answers? That was as ridiculous as it was pointless.
But maybe…
His fingers moved before he could second-guess himself. He opened his browser and typed: Lucian + The Elders + bloodlines.
The results were limited, buried in obscure corners of the internet. He scrolled, skimming over irrelevant links until his eyes caught something.
A forgotten legend. A name erased. A legacy that cannot be undone.
The words sent a chill through him. The link led to a deep-web forum post, the kind filled with conspiracy theories and shadowy myths. But something about it felt… different.
He clicked it.
The page loaded, revealing an old discussion thread. The first message was simple:
"Lucian Voss. The last of his kind."
Damian's heart skipped a beat.
Voss. His last name.
His throat went dry as he scrolled further. The thread was filled with cryptic messages, fragments of discussions about an ancient bloodline, a secret war in the shadows, and something about The Elders maintaining order.
One post stood out.
"If you are searching for the truth, you are already being watched. Trust no one."
A cold shiver ran through Damian's spine. He suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. As if someone—something—was looking right through the screen at him.
His phone vibrated.
He nearly dropped it.
With shaky hands, he looked at the notification.
Unknown Number: "You shouldn't be looking for him."
Damian's breath caught in his throat. His pulse pounded.
Before he could react, another message came through.
Unknown Number: "They're already here."
His stomach twisted. His head snapped toward the window, dread pooling in his gut.
Then—he heard it.
A sound from outside.
Footsteps.
Not the casual, aimless kind. These were precise. Intentional. Moving toward his building.
Damian barely had time to process before a sharp knock echoed through the apartment.
His entire body tensed.
Another knock.
Louder this time.
And then—
A voice.
Low. Cold.
"Damian Voss. Open the door."
His blood ran cold.
They had found him.