Castlevania 1. Awakening

The cold visions of my memory returned to me once more, as I awoke unknowing what had transpired in the centuries while I slept. I saw the ruined catacombs of the walls that had engulfed me, draped in the bouncing red tapestry of the dancing flames. As I struggled to make sense of this new scenery, and as my vision slowly adjusted itself to the static chaos of what was before me, I started to see glimpses of her silhouette. I could barely see past the thick fog of darkness even as I struggled to claw my way out of my grave in futility, but in my mind's eye, I could see her as clearly as the dawn that had eluded me. I had not felt that feeling in so long, and could only vaguely remember the road paved with the corpses of enemies and allies alike as I walked the path set out for me with relish.

As I pondered about whether she was really there, if she was truly watching, a small pang of regret momentarily stifled my breathing, forcing me in turn to cough out clouds of dust that had long settled their way into my lungs. By the time I had recovered from this short interlude, her vision was gone, and I was left with nothing but the thoughts of my failure of saving her...and how my quest to do so had inevitably led me down this dark path. Was it really worth it, Marie? Even knowing what would happen, did you really think you had no choice in the matter? I caught myself in the midst of my unsettled thoughts and shook them off, knowing that just as ever they would go nowhere. While she enjoys her time in heaven, I am trapped in this miserable shell of a body, plunging the world into chaos for all eternity...an eternity never to be by her side again. She would never reply. Why would she? Even far beyond that, as I tried to push these thoughts into the back of my mind, I knew for certain that even if there was some way to meet...see...FEEL her again, I would not want her to see what I have become. I was nothing but a shell, but to me, she was eternal.

I slumped over, still surveying my surroundings. My legs had not yet regained their ability to walk, so I had no choice but to lean on the walls using them as my guide. My eyes had now adjusted to the dark, but I still could not tell where I was or how I got here. The last thing I remembered was a sharp pain through the left side of my chest where...a pale warrior with white hair had seemingly bested me in combat and stabbed me with a damn sword. Trevor? Why did that name feel like it had some sort of significance? I traced over my chest where the sword had pierced me in that memory, but found no remnants of being wounded at all. Was it all some kind of sick dream? If so, why did it all feel so real? If not, then how did I get here?

Still lacking in answers, I shuffled over down the corridors leading to my old throne. I weakly sat, covering myself in a crimson blanket as I struggled to fight the cold permeating through the entirety of my brittle frame. I would have preferred the delusion that these sensations came from the hands of death finally showing me mercy, but I knew far better than that. And so I waited, occasionally peering into the outskirts of a city that was entirely unknown to me. Trapped within the confines of my own fortress, I could only revel in what once was. All I could see was that the world had forgotten my existence, and for good reason. Where there once was a mighty dragon, there was now only a scurrying pack of rats. I considered stepping out of the steeples of my once majestic cathedral, but saw no real reason to.

I was great once. Feared. Now all I could do was lightly chuckle at what was evidently an eternity that had long past.

I could not die...yet...I could not live.


	2. Crowded Streets

As I peered outside the rusted gates of my ancient abode, I could see that not everything was lost. Its brazen gateways clearly carried the same exposed weariness that one would expect from centuries upon centuries of time taking its toll. I slowly shuffled towards the outside, reminded of the deal I was offered in order to finally release myself from my immortal bonds. To die…to finally meet eternal peace was as elusive a goal as any. Greater than the hundreds of kingdoms I have easily toppled in my prime, more tenacious than any insurgent rats that I personally crushed beneath my feet, death itself was a concept that escaped me time after time. I often marched into the front lines of battle, hoping that perhaps some brave warrior would finally put me out of my misery, but to no avail. Even if they were foolhardy enough to rush through the chaos and bloodshed before them, there were very few that could muster up the gall to face down the monster who took down the devil himself and seized his very throne on Earth…or so I like to imagine as he squirms like the scared worm that he is.

I could still picture every minuscule drop of life force spilled on the grounds of my castle, which gladly drank it as if it had not been fed for many years. Ravenous and unwieldy, eventually my castle itself somehow gained the ability to manifest its form built upon the corpses of the thousands of victims slain in my rule. It responded well to my demands, and soon I found myself inexorably linked to it like a moth to a flame, unable to truly escape the cycle of pain and bloodshed that I myself had started. Its frescoes and walkways soon came to gradually resemble the state of my mind, as rivers of blood soon flooded its very halls, coating the jagged edges of cracked stone with visions of fickle death. Ah, how simple it came for these mortals.

Nearing the gates, I could barely see past the incandescent glow of surrounding lights. I knew that I was no stranger to the moon's gentle presence, but I confess that at the moment it was difficult to tell the night from the dawn. Nearly blinded by the lights peering down on me, I instinctively extended an arm to cover my eyes. After a few moments, my eyes had adjusted to their vile luminescent oppressors but even so, I found myself greatly uncertain of what I saw. I knew that I had been asleep for quite some time, but I did not expect the world to change this much. Gone were the gigantic towers from which my archers were stationed. Taking their place were these immense towering structures seemingly emitting the oppressively bright lights that assaulted me just moments before. It was as though these flocks of sheep were too scared of the night to truly separate it from the day, and it sickened me to think that even after my long absence, humanity was still at its very core afraid of the night. Pathetic really, but it gave me something to exploit once I've had my fill and regained an ounce of my former strength.

Loud noises riddled the streets as fleets of horseless carriages howled with the rude impatience of their passengers. Crowds of people marched in ordered yet quickly shifting flocks, each person seemingly preoccupied with their own affairs. Each too engrossed in their own lives to notice the tatters of poor beggars scrambling for food in each dark isolated alleyway. I felt invisible walking past these masses of ignorant fools. This was a quality I appreciated at the present for it kept me from drawing too much unnecessary attention. However, it was also something that I inwardly abhorred. These people would know who I am…and they would fear me once more.


	3. The unknown city

Peering into the chaos of the bustling streets, I found myself at odds with my surroundings. Soon the crowds had started clearing as midnight approached. This was a pleasant sight, as I found myself uncomfortable with the idea of intermingling with fools who were far too ignorant to know whose kingdom they treading. While I waited for the crowds to subside, I noticed a loud group of about five people, draped in quaint-looking fluorescent rags. They seemed to be enforcers of some sort, carrying with them a certain air of authority amongst the ragged poor hiding in the deserted alcoves of the sleeping city. Lining them up like lambs on their way to the slaughter, they dragged the scared fragments of men, women, and children, and fed upon the renunciation of their dearest possessions. I saw these broken souls take out whatever scraps of food they could gather in exchange for some sort of protection. I suppose that they needed it, being in their insipid conditions. Each of them eventually gave their share and scattered off into the darkness like scared mice. Soon the so-called "protectors" also went on their way, laughing at what appeared to be an evident ruse against the weak. How utterly entertaining the idea was. That regardless of the age, the weak still existed to prey upon the weaker.

Stepping away from the graceful comfort of the darkness, I shuffled back into the streets where I was greeted by the vision of a young boy clad in leather chaps and a green overcoat. He motioned for me to follow him, as I stood there dumbfounded at the sight. He exuded a strange teal spectral glow which made me question his very existence. For all I knew, he could have been a trap set out for me by my enemies. Normally this would be a treat, but I was still too frail to fight back should the need arise. Had I not nestled myself into the shadows earlier, that small group of nameless bandits could have easily beaten me into submission. Proud as I was, I could not deny the frailty of my present state. Much like the ruins of my collapsed castle, my frame was brittle…skeletal in the most literal sense. I was starved for blood, that crimson fluid of divine sustenance that could restore all my wounds and satiate my most primal thirst for life.

I neared the boy as he led me down to yet another abandoned alley. The streets were empty by now, but the poor peasants were still begging for some alms. Meanwhile shady merchants and pandering whores wandered about, caught within their own webs of desperation. I ignored them all and focused on my singular goal. I had to find out where that boy was leading me. Soon I would reach a corner, where I would later find that the boy had disappeared. In his place was a most surprising sight.

A pale horned beast was feeding on a steaming pile of flesh—likely a freshly killed peasant. It towered at around eight feet even as it crouched, had a skeletal goat-like face, and possessed sharp bony talons in place of hands. The demon was not one of my former employ, and its features were far too bestial to belong to the Lord of the Dead or any other Lord of Shadow that I slaughtered on my rise to the throne. The fearsome creature noticed my presence and promptly turned, roaring with anticipation. I could tell that my presence had alerted it and interrupted its feeding frenzy. Its glowing green eyes, which matched the overgrowth of consumed souls that protruded from its chest, now met with mine, as I shook off the rags that I used as comfort just seconds before.

I may have been a shell of my former self, but I would not die here. Not like this. Not to this creature. And so I attempted to fight off this beast, futile as it seemed. The towering creature stood a full four feet taller than me and moved at a speed too inhumanly fast for me to deal with at the time. If I had just a drop of blood…even just a measly drop, I could have put up a much more valiant effort against this monster. Alas, the only saving grace I possessed was that my wounds could heal as fast as any force powerful enough to deal them. Though my wounds healed far too quickly for my innards to spill, I could still feel the creature's jagged claws tearing through my flesh and breaking my bones. Any mere mortal would have done more than just recoil at these injuries, and I found myself barely even laying a scratch on it with my aged claws.

It humiliated me, enjoying every savory bit of punishment it could inflict as I repeatedly groaned at my sheer helplessness. Soon it had had enough, and settled with slamming me back onto the ground, promptly opting to stab me with one of its talons. In a desperate attempt, I caught its skeletal weapon and motioned it away from my body only to barely dodge its teeth as it impatiently lunged towards my neck. At this very moment I knew that my body would soon collapse, and I would "die," waking up yet another century later just like any other time I'd be vanquished. It withdrew ever so slightly, preparing for yet another attack, when an audible slice of matter shook its very frame. A small fountain of blood would gush out from its mouth and torso as it screamed in bloody agony, but the puddle was too far for me to reach. I wished that I could crawl there and have a sip, but my body would no longer listen to my demands.

It would take yet another half a second for me to process what had just happened. The beast had been split in half, from one side of its torso to the next by a warrior fully clad in obsidian armor. Leaner and far more humanoid in his appearance, the warrior's armor aesthetically resembled a golem, the likes of which the Lord of the Dead was quite fond of. Its pauldrons were asymmetrical, with its left side being completely comprised of jagged yet ornate obsidian metal while its right side was crafted with a crimson hue that ran along the rib-like protrusions of its chest plate. The warrior's face was of course concealed by a mask, making me wonder if this warrior was anything more than just an enchanted armor or a poor reanimated soul. The entire set of his armor reeked of the abyss that I escaped from after slaying that insolent braggart of a monarch. His name was so Forgotten, that even I could not surmise it. The warrior held an ornately designed broadsword, the likes of which I had never seen in my travels. It exuded a purplish glow, separating the blade from the steaming stream of blood dripping from its sharpened edges. As I keenly observed his presence, my vision began to fail me, and before I could even notice, my consciousness once again faded into the darkness.


	4. Empowerment

"Let us out of here!"

"Wh-why have they brought us here? What do they want with us?!"

I awoke inside a sealed room hours later with what seemed to be a family of three desperately clamouring for help. Their panicked screams loudly vibrated through my ears, as my sight gradually returned to me. I was starved. Reduced to a ravenous beast with nothing on my mind but my crippling desire for a blood.

I groaned while weakly attempting to get up.

"Who is this man? Is he sleeping?"

I heard the voice of an innocent child who tried to reach out to me as if I were nothing more than a wounded animal. Part of me would have appreciated the gesture had the circumstance been any different but at the moment, I saw her as nothing more than a delicious morsel. While my mind was momentarily preoccupied with my bloodlust, my body yearned, no…rather, it _screamed_ for release as it began shaking about it uncontrolled spasms. This scared the child who quickly ran behind her father as he dutifully tried to protect his family like any sane man would. He yelled something almost inaudible as he motioned for me to back away. I could not understand what he was saying nor did I care. All I wanted was a taste of their crimson vital fluids. Taking one quick step forward, the man lunged ahead and swung an arm with all his might. Though such a blow would have incapacitated any lesser creature, the only thing it managed to accomplish was further infuriate me in my most bestial of moods. The next swing would be his undoing, as I adeptly caught his arm and tore it right off its socket. It took a split second for the man's senses to register before his screams of pain flooded my ears and compelled me to inflict more once I had finished having my fill. I latched on to his severed arm and hungrily sucked out the blood that spurted out of it, slowly regaining my strength in the process. The man's screams were unbearable at this point, and were only slightly muffled by the sheer terror in his wife and daughter.

I admit that feasting upon the man's arm was lowly of me, but I was in no position to be dignified. And so I did the next thing that came naturally to me, which was to rip out the man's throat and drink from the fountain of blood that would come gushing out of his severed arteries. I put no drop to waste as I bit, sucked, and licked the fluid out of his mangled corpse as greedily as I possibly could. I could feel the streams of blood and scraps of lacerated flesh on my chest as I rapaciously tried to satiate centuries of hunger. At this very moment I was no different from that pale horned beast that had nearly sent me back to yet another century of sleep just hours ago. In fact, I was probably much worse. To be honest, I really did not care.

Wiping the man's remains off my body, I could feel the sinews of my bones restoring themselves and my hunger being silenced all the while. I could feel my veins filling up with the satiating crimson life force that empowered me for many centuries. Most prominently, I could feel my youth returning to me as my pale flesh rebuilt itself muscle after muscle, restoring the chiselled frame that had led many men to their deaths and allowed me to tear their bodies limb after bloody limb without the slightest effort. As a result, the gauntness of my previous frame had vanished, giving way to a younger, more capable body that resembled my appearance prior to being turned into an unholy creature of the night. I could see that my frail white hair had been restored to a deep shade of black, and that my eyes had changed from possessing jet black scleras with orange irises back to their regular form. My glowing red eyes pierced through the flashing darkness, silencing the mother and child who were clinging onto each other, cowering in debilitating amounts of shock and fear. They had just witnessed a husband and father massacred before them, and could now do nothing but shake for their voices had betrayed them. I felt small pangs of remorse clawing at me, and so I opted to quickly finish them off.

I grabbed the woman by the neck and drank from it, draining her of all her blood within a matter of seconds. Moments after I started, I felt her flesh shrivel up from its soft youthful form to something resembling a rough aged prune. I quickly tossed her lanky cadaver aside and briefly stared at the child, seeing the distorted reflection of my red glowing eyes through hers. As I picked her up, I noted the innocence that would never see its natural end at the world's hands, and justified my act in the thought that she would at least join her parents soon. I was sending them all to a better place anyway. I saw her tears reflecting the terror that befell her as my sense of smell detected the foul stench of urine that soaked the fabric of her dress. She squirmed and seized in a desperate bid for escape, not knowing that death would be a much more merciful end than living with the memory of what had just transpired. I bit, attempting to end her suffering in as swift a manner as I possibly could.

Satisfied, I tossed her body aside and walked towards the door. Though the room was pitch black, I could see small cracks near an adjacent wall leading to an outside complex. The cracks were small, but large enough for me to fit myself into once I transformed my body into mist. Strangely, I could not access many of my abilities despite my hardest attempts. This was strange indeed. This was not my first resurrection and yet for some reason, I was unable to use any of the abilities that had been available to me every single other time. Before I knew it, the door's lock had unlatched and I was hit with such force that it sent me reeling back into unconsciousness.


	5. An old friend

Memories of simpler times started bubbling to the surface as I slept…memories of my childhood spent with my dear Marie. I remembered the innocent promises we used to make to each other, of how we planned our own betrothal to each other years before the event actually came to pass. I could still picture her in her long white dress, running across the fields, beckoning for me to chase after her while I spent my afternoons brooding under the blissful shade of the oak tree near my master's stables. Many of the other squires kept their distance from me because of this fact, and could only really gain some sort of relevance by constantly teasing Marie for liking one such as myself. Despite all the teasing and the jokes, Marie never wavered in her interest in me.

She was a bright young girl who always brought with her a soft warmth that drew everyone she met to love her. This of course caused some complications. There were times where I was jealous…yes…so many times where she had to stop me from beating the next potential suitor who I thought posed a threat because of their rank or their wit and charm. Marie would always berate me for this, but she would nonetheless understand that I only did so out of fear of losing her. Anger was one of the only emotions I was capable of fully expressing, and it was this anger that led me to train and fight better than any of the other recruits for the Brotherhood of Light. Marie was possibly the only person I knew who could calm me down no matter the circumstance and bring me at peace. How I missed her so.

Before I could delve further into the idyllic ignorance of my earlier memories, my senses were alerted by the putrid smell of the abyss. The necrotic energies were far too great for this to be anyone else, and so I awoke, knowing exactly who it was that was approaching. My sight gradually restored itself and looked around at the elaborate carvings of the inverted statue situated on the ceiling of this room. I had been lying down on a statue of a cloaked witch, with its arms extended as if to cradle an infant. The masked warrior had been watching me from some time, but he was not the source of the foul energies that forced me out of my state of peaceful slumber. I turned my head to the side, blinking with light surprise at the figure that approached. Dressed in a black suit of some sort with purple adornments, Zobek, the Lord of the Dead himself, walked with a cautious impatience. He was smoking some sort of white papery object that smelled of tar and other substances that were entirely new to me.

Our eyes immediately met and our animosity made instantly clear. I made no effort to hide this, as did he.

Once one of the founding members of the Brotherhood of Light, Zobek along with his co-founders Carmilla and Cornell were overtaken by arrogance. Each finding a spot on earth where the power of God was as its highest, the three founders ascended into heaven as pure spirits, unintentionally leaving behind the corrupted husks of their bodies who then turned into the Lords of Shadow. Carmilla's corrupted form became the Queen of the Vampires and ruled over the Bernhardt castle, terrorizing nearby villages and farming them like cattle, while Cornell, the Lord of the Lycans expanded his territory near the ruins of Agharta by spreading the disease of lycanthropy among men and beasts alike. Zobek spent half his time leading the necromancers in the Land of the Dead and another half disguised as an ally in the Brotherhood of Light so that he could monitor their abilities from within. Each carrying unimaginable power on this Earth, the three lords spread death and ruin across their three nations for centuries, plunging the world into the precipice of extinction. As a human, I grew up training day and night under their tyranny and was sent as the Brotherhood of Light's last hope. While the Brotherhood fought in the frontlines of battle, rallying refugees and defending villages from monster attacks, I traveled across the three nations to assassinate their leaders and gather the pieces of the God mask. This holy relic had been split into three pieces among the Lords of Shadow, who were too proud and too cautious to share its power among one another. Without knowing the true significance of its power, each held a piece for themselves and hid it in a location that they could personally watch over. I myself was unsure of what the completed God mask could do, only knowing that it had the power to bring back the dead.

Why was this significant, you ask? Well days before my quest, I was informed of the news that my beloved Marie had been murdered, and that this mask was the only way to bring her back. Beset by panic, I did everything I could to gather all the pieces, even if it meant competing with the legendary powers of the Lords of Shadow. I grew violent and more bloodthirsty with each of the souls I butchered on the way there, until I met with the Lord of the Lycans and Queen of the Vampires and personally assassinated them, gaining a fraction of their abilities in the process. These abilities would aid me for the rest of my journey, but I would later realize that useful as they were, they were merely tools to further me down my own twisted path into darkness…and I could no longer bear to use the once holy relics as I spiralled into despair.

Little did I know that my quest was all for nought, and I would merely be guided by Zobek's machinations to further his own maniacal goals. I slaughtered the other lords, ridding each nation of their leaders and sending their followers into a frenzied state of panic. Rather than the weakened state of anarchy that the Brotherhood expected, the monsters instead lost all traces of intelligence—reverting back into feral animals that wanted nothing but to feed and kill. Chaos inevitably ensued, leading to the deaths of many more thousands while their souls were unable to ascend into heaven due to a spell erected by Zobek. Ignorant of Zobek's true identity at the time, I often found myself working with him to free despairing villagers and vanquish the soulless ghouls and vampires in Carmilla's domain. I once thought of him as a trusted friend, but it turned out that he was only helping me for his own benefit. While I butchered my way through each nation, Zobek was keeping an eye on my progress, biding his time until I collected the pieces of the God mask.

Perhaps the one solace I can find during the whole ordeal was that Zobek himself was manipulated just as much as I was. While he took credit for his seemingly incorruptible plan, Zobek was unknowingly being manipulated by the devil himself. As mighty Lucifer stepped out from his domain into the real world, Zobek was burnt to ashes, acting as a glorified gate for the first of the fallen angels. I equally despised Lucifer for his role in all this, but for all his faults, the devil was not responsible for killing Marie. Zobek was.

The treacherous bastard took a few more puffs from the tar-laced object in between his fingers and finally spoke.

"It pleases me…to see you recovered. Old friend."

The nerve of him. Spending centuries in hiding only to show up in plain sight begging me to help him against the devil's inevitable return. I could see him trying his hardest to maintain his composure, but I knew that deep down, he was still deeply afraid of me.

"Indeed, old friend."

I approached him with my fists clenched, ready to draw blood when his Lieutenant drew his otherworldly blade from its nonexistent sheath in anticipation. Circular waves of purplish energy crackled as each inch of the sword emerged from nothingness. Zobek quickly intervened, causing the Lieutenant to sheathe his blade in the void from which it originated. He calmly but arrogantly began speaking of my confusion…of my inner desire to free myself from immortality and finally die in peace. He turned and began calmly walking to the side, confident that I would be unable to lay a finger on him while his Lieutenant was on watch.

He pointed me towards a protruding square structure which held the Vampire Killer. This was the whip that allowed me to win against whatever legions evil could throw at me while I fought in the name of God. It represented His strongest symbol on Earth, and the pinnacle of Rinaldo Gandolfi's many holy contraptions. Shaped like a cross built from enchanted alloys, this nearly unbreakable whip had each of its chain links forged in holy water stored in a seemingly endless dimension contained within the weapon's body. Many enhancements existed for this weapon, most of which I was able to collect in my journey against the Lords of Shadow.

It allowed me to conquer everything the night could throw at me but in my anger, I ultimately destroyed the object, leaving its broken pieces scattered in the abyss after I destroyed the Forgotten One and claimed his power as my own. How ironic that my once most trusted weapon would be the only thing that could bring a permanent end to my misery. How utterly humorous that I would only find out about this fact centuries after I destroyed the weapon and left it in another dimension. This was an outcome so fitting that fate itself could die in sheer laughter. We were nothing but actors in an elaborate play, and this was yet another sign of the fact.


	6. A fragile alliance

I approached the Vampire Killer, astonished by the craftsmanship of the repaired relic. I reached my hand towards it but was unable to grip on it. The object had been an illusion. Like the scared rat that he was, Zobek used the Vampire Killer as a way of forcing my allegiance. He knew that more than anything I wanted to die, and so he used this against me so that he could use me as a pawn once more. He may have thought me gullible once, but the same outcome was not going to happen twice. His only request was that I prevent Lucifer's return to the world by hunting down his acolytes undetected. In doing so, he swore that he would deliver the fatal blow to my accursed heart himself, thereby granting me eternal rest. I sarcastically remarked,

"And I am sure…you will fulfil that vow."

He grimly smirked while taking in another puff of smoke.

Zobek walked a short distance before explaining things I already knew about how he and Satan's acolytes were too terrified of my wrath and power to intervene. He turned, expressing his doubt at my ability to exterminate them. A small hint of concern betrayed Zobek's voice, and he explained how at present, even his Lieutenant could be more than a match for me. This was not something that I completely doubted given the warrior's performance earlier at the city streets.

"Don't they fear the mighty Zobek?"

I said so sarcastically that the venom in my tone was practically dripping.

Zobek grimly smirked in humiliation and remained silent for a split second.

I saw through his meaning immediately and resisted the urge to laugh at his expense before he continued. Now the acolytes feared no one, not even the Lord of the Dead, let alone the long forgotten shell of the man once known as the Dragon. None of this was of any consequence to me. Once I found a way to regain my powers, nothing would be able to stop me. I relished the idea of Lucifer coming back just so I could make the devil himself taste fear and death once more before I left this world to its own devices.

"Did you know that this city is built upon the foundations of your castle? The acolytes are focusing their attentions here for very good reason."

I approached him as he continued.

"Satan has specifically chosen this place for his return. He means to enslave you first…to humiliate you for what you did to him."

"Let's get on with it."

I impatiently turned, allowing Zobek to think that he was in control. The years have squandered his abilities, for he had lost the edge he once had in telepathy. Where once I could find myself hardly noticing his probing influence I could now feel his murky thoughts trying to peer into my mind. I had no intention of hiding about like a caged rodent. My current abilities may not have been enough to directly confront the acolytes, but if this city resembled enough of my castle, I would know exactly which locations would play perfectly into my advantage.

"The acolytes must plunge the world into chaos before Satan can be summoned. Their activities leave spectral traces…which are difficult, but not impossible to follow."

"Stop patronizing me Zobek. I'm weak, not stupid. You say you are unable to determine who the acolytes are and yet you have given me all I needed to know. Tell me, is this entire city protected by magic?"

Zobek shook his head, dumbfounded.

"What are you hiding from me, old friend?"

"Nothing."

"I have no patience for this Zobek, and we both know we are short on time."

As I said this I could see Zobek's calm façade fade ever so slightly and his guise as an able manipulator shattering before my very eyes.

"I'm beginning to wonder how much of a role you truly had in Lucifer's plot a thousand years ago, because it seems you have this plan quite poorly thought out. Did you really think I would blindly follow your demands even as you dangle the Vampire Killer like a glorified snare? If you are hiding something from me, I'll be sure to—"

"You'll be sure to what? In your current state you'll do better to kneel before my feet in mock despair. You thought correct, old friend, and I am not going to pretend that I did not expect such behaviour from you. It is true that I was nothing but a puppet in Satan's ploy a millennium ago but what does that have to do with our current state? If you wish to rush head first into this madness then be my guest. I will not be involved in your stupidity. The fact is that in your current state, you can barely defend yourself against my Lieutenant let alone one of Satan's more powerful servants. Do not let your arrogance blind you old friend."

"Make no mistake, Zobek. I am not helping you out of mercy or courtesy. Don't think for one second that I will owe you anything once our arrangement is complete."

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Gabri-."

I interrupted him with a cold glare before he could finish uttering that name. He made an uncomfortable cough then guided me towards a device emitting a soft green glow. It shimmered with spectral energies that corresponded to the user's thoughts, and could be manipulated with simple gestures. Zobek waved his hand towards the device and showed me three distinct regions in the city where his telepathy could not break through. We discussed the likeliest locations that the acolytes were most active based on this information and used it to plan an effective course of action. Although the acolytes were careful to mask their activities with magic barriers, they neglected to hide the most obvious aspect of their ploys. In their desperate efforts to hide among the shadows, they exposed their very locations. Not having any opposition for hundreds of years must have fed into their egos, letting them make mistakes that were this easily detectable. Amateurs. They were right not to do anything in my prime. I would have caught their plans in their infancy and flushed them out before they could do so much as raise an insurgency against me.

The three regions included a factory of some sort which produced cures that were bought and sold against common ailments. The second region was a bustling clock tower where weaponry was produced and stockpiled. Even with the sheer scale of the magical barriers erected around its borders, I could feel the demonic essence bursting through the cracks of this tower from a mile away. Finally, the third region was hidden within a complex basilica where Zobek could detect nothing but the foul stench of rotting flesh.

Based on Zobek's testimony, we found it appropriate that I hunt down the three acolytes in the order of the factory, the clock tower, and finally, the basilica. I knew that given enough time, I would gradually regain mastery of my powers which would make the task much easier. I was not above using pawns, and so made sure to use Zobek and his Lieutenant where it would be convenient all the while making them think that I was cooperating without any protests. Zobek did not have to overtly state his intentions for yet another infantile bid for power, and I could see that with the Devil and the Dragon out of the picture, the Lord of the Dead would be able to rule over all without opposition. He was cunning, but I did not spend half a millennia in power just to fall for his old tricks again.

"It looks as though your absence has not dulled you in the least, old friend."

Zobek said with a surprised glee as he took out what he called a cigarette from its case and began his incessant smoking once more, as if to perpetuate a nervous habit.

"And I can see that my absence has made you as careless as Lucifer's dimwitted brats."

I smirked, noting the expression on his face that suggested he tread lightly. While he hid behind the safety of our arrangement with the Vampire Killer, he knew that I had him under my mercy as well. He knew very well that without my help, Lucifer would easily make mincemeat out of his charred remains—an image that entertained me for quite some time. Still, I could not deny that had our circumstances been any different, he and I could have become great allies.


	7. Infiltration

Not wasting any more time, Zobek sent me to a teleportation device. I approached it, while it transformed my body into smoke in order to get through its magical gates. Within moments I arrived outside the factory complex just a few feet away from some narrow smoke-emitting tunnels. Zobek was cautious about any of the acolytes tracing his energies back to him despite the prominent involvement of his alter-ego with the outside world or the obvious location of his hulking obsidian tower. His rampant idiocy aside, I could understand why someone such as Zobek would prefer to sit and hide while someone else did the dirty work. After all, this was what he did the last time we worked together exactly a thousand years ago. The smoke vents would have been an obvious choice if I had my ability to shift into mist, but that for some reason still escaped me. No matter how many times I concentrated on the ability, I could not access my magical reserves. Frustrated, I instead channeled my efforts into making a much more fitting set of attire. The Dragon was not going to fight in the frontlines with torn rags and a measly grey waist cloth. These intrusive cloths offered practically no benefit and left me with no form of protection. Tough as my skin was, I could not rely on it to avoid harm from the demons I would be facing this night.

By cutting my wrists, I was able to conjure up a large pool of blood which I manipulated to surround the entirety of my frame. Using whatever traces of magic I did have, I solidified the blood to form a crimson, gold-trimmed, armored cloak possessing a metallic hardness more durable than the enchanted metals that the Brotherhood of Light used against me in our ceaseless skirmishes. This was good. It meant that I could still form elaborate constructs out of my blood not only to attack, but also defend myself. I pressed my hand, letting the long claws that had formed in my fingertips to pierce my own flesh and draw blood. Using the same technique I employed in crafting my armor, I was able to cover my arm in an eldritch gauntlet comprised of my solidified blood and the smoking shadow essence that made up my unleashed bestial form. Using just the right level of concentration, I could craft and reform this gauntlet, making it appear and vanish at will. After a few dozen tries, I was able to summon my blood gauntlet without the need for self-mutilation.

I could feel Zobek's intrusive telepathy trying to communicate with me and within a few seconds, his inaudible whispers became much clearer.

"You should be able to see a smoking vent ten feet ahead of you. Though you do not yet possess the ability to turn into mist, you should be able to knock over one of the covers in the nearby ventilation shaft and use the extra space to move around the complex. Naturally, you will not be able to fit inside but you should be able to change your form into something that will better accommodate you. Once inside, I will not be able to communicate with you for more than a few seconds at a time, as it will alert the acolytes of my presence. I will try to scan the area for nearby targets but you need to be careful, Gabriel. I will not be able to save you if you are detected, and we are all doomed should you meet an early end."

"Your overbearing thoughts are starting to irritate me, Zobek. Leave me be. I can do this without being treated like a damn child."

"As you wish."

I opened up the metallic grates of the shaft and surveyed the area. Zobek was right in that I would not be able to fit there normally. There were however a few ways around this. Although my magical reserves were nowhere up to par to their previous state, I could still call upon my ability to shapeshift into beasts of the night. I could hear the light noises being made by rodents, and figured that it would be easier for me to avoid detection by imitating the local wildlife. I concentrated and reduced my form into that of smoke and reformed myself into a swarm of rats. The form was unbecoming, but I needed to blend in to gain a better understanding of the area. I crawled through the vents, hearing the incessant cackles of loose electricity past the whirring buzz of worn down fans. I approached the complex, and often came across metallic grates which allowed me to see inside the factory.

The construction of the building was very strange, as it was comprised largely of metallic walls embroidered with an assortment of electric devices. I could hear the clanging of boots crashing against metal where humans collaborated with one another in a series of agitated discussions. Each section of the factory was sealed and separated. Some of the rooms contained humans working in secluded tables containing a menagerie of scientific equipment. These workers were dressed in sealed suits and rarely talked to one another. I cared not about what they were working on and moved on. Other sections bellowed with the roaring sounds of undulating machines soullessly crafting curious structures made out of clear yet sturdy-looking containers where fluids would be dispensed and then sealed. As I sauntered past the vents of this complex I searched for the nearly indistinguishable scent of a demon's essence.

Throughout my many battles, I have never encountered creatures such as the hellish beast that attacked me in the enclosed alley. There was no doubt in my mind that that creature was working for Lucifer and that there were many others like it, a great deal of which I was convinced were hiding in this place. If they were anywhere close to as powerful as my broods of vampires, then I expected that they had the ability to change their forms into the visage of these lowly humans. They would never be able to blend in so well with this vastly overpopulated city otherwise. I journeyed further and further through the vents until I eventually ran into an area that made my spectral senses tingle. Behind a thick wall was a room that contained possibly what I was looking for. There was no way of me to tell what was inside, and so I called for Zobek in my thoughts, knowing that he was still watching my every move.

"You are right, old friend. That area does indeed contain an unimaginable amount of spectral matter. I should be able to subtly influence some weak-willed creature in the complex to open the hatches.

True to his word, Zobek managed to hypnotize a low-ranking technician in an adjacent control room into making a slight opening at the hatches. A nearby officer noticed this and inquisitively asked what the man was doing.

"What's going on? We're under direct orders to seal all sections of this facility."

"I'm sorry, sir. There was an error in the circuitry and I had to run a quick diagnostic to see what was wrong."

"Alright. Carry on then."

I wasted no time and scurried into the small opening made by the metallic gate.

I could see that the room was well sealed off from the rest of the complex, with all ventilation shafts leading somewhere else entirely. I could not crawl about like a rat for much longer so I restored my humanoid appearance, opting to hide within the shade of a nearby corner preceding a long empty corridor. At this point the unmistakable odour of hell filled my nostrils, forcing me to let out an untimely cough. I envied humans in this sense, for their weaker bodies were unable to tell one creature of the night from the other based purely on scent. A hulking creature approached in alarm. The demon appeared slightly human in appearance, with mechanical devices overlapping parts of its face. Most of its body was covered in thick red scales of armor while its pale bald head was hastily exposed. It clumsily walked about while carrying a large cannon strapped onto its right arm. Zobek once warned me about these creatures, and told me that I would be unable to directly confront them until much later.

Its presence quickly alerted me of its relative weakness. The armor that it carried must have been a crutch to make up for the weakness in the creature's body. At first I could not understand why I could not tear it into pieces using my bare claws, but then something piqued my interest. Though its cannon was mechanical in appearance, it contained the distinct scent of a demon's essence within it, as though an imp or some other lesser creature had become ensnared and trapped within the inner workings of the machine. The projectiles it launched likely depended on a more supernatural source, and I was not about to find out how being pelted by this curious weapon felt like.

I was trapped hiding in this corner, with little options other than to shapeshift once more or to fight. There was no reason for me to shapeshift, seeing that no other creature could wander off in this secluded section. And so I prepared myself for combat, conserving my energy until my new prey approached…and approach it did.

I had exactly three heartbeats to choose the right course of action, and my first instinctive move was to strike its jaws with my crimson gauntlet. This sent the creature reeling back in pain and exposed an open mouth for me to take advantage of. I quickly morphed my body into a viscous cloud of blood and forced myself into its throat before the creature could recover one step. Once inside, I melded myself into its bloodstream and took over the creature, using it both as a puppet and a shield. The creature's body was weak, however, and would not last long. I would only have a short period of time before the potency of my corrosive blood completely consumed the creature from within. This was made all the more apparent by the quick succession of innards that would progressively collapse with each passing step, making my vessel much clumsier and appear less inconspicuous as a consequence. Its pain was unimaginable, and I reveled in the screams that I muffled while I manipulated its limbs like a young boy playing with his toys.

I used this puppet's lumbering motions to propel myself forward down the corridor, noticing the small glassy eyes of metallic boxes following my movements. These contraptions must have alerted the other guards, who then proceeded to break their line of patrol and start questioning my new toy. Unable to answer, the guards grew impatient and drew their cannons, aiming them at me. I knew that this body could not hold on any longer and so let go, allowing the power of my blood to completely consume my fleshy vehicle and absorb both his flesh and armor into my body. The process of conversion was admittedly unrefined, as it left much of my victim's remains spraying out in a messy explosion of blood and gore. The important part was that my flesh and armor were now more durable than ever, having absorbed part of the creature's sturdily crafted armor. Given a few more attempts, I could probably increase my defenses even more. Fortunately, fate itself was smiling at me this very moment.

The rest of the guards were shocked at what they saw, still unable to determine what had just happened. Before they could alert the rest of the complex of an intruder, I dashed forward, nimbly dodging their aim but inadvertently alerting the higher authorities anyway. There was no turning back, and so I resolved to I grab on to one of the guards' faces and then furiously slammed it into the ground, crushing its skull in my grip in the process. The other two guards open fired at me, barely missing before I formed a couple of daggers from my hardened blood and hurled it into one's head, tearing a fissure in its skull in the process. I then transformed my body into a cloud of blood and possessed another guard. Once inside, I took the opportunity to fire its cannon into the creature's companion, completely incinerating it in the process. The feeling was satisfying, but short lived as other guards ran towards me with their weapons drawn. They did not hesitate to fire and before I knew it, my vessel was destroyed beyond recognition, reducing my form into that of a shapeless puddle of blood. Unaware of my inability to get hurt when possessing another creature, they approached the puddle while I patiently waited for the chance to strike. I waited one…two…three steps before pouncing and taking over yet another guard, forcing it to vomit my blood into the other's face. The creature's face melted at so quick a rate that it could barely utter a scream before its jaws dissolved into a dark bony fluid. After I finished, I began consuming my vessel, making it explode into a primordial soup of corroded flesh.

I reformed back into my original form, noting that with this encounter I was definitely more durable than when I first entered the facility. The near fatal blows that that demon in the street had dealt me would now only register as weakly as a bee stinging an object made out of steel. Feeling some more of my powers beginning to restore themselves, I dusted off the small scraps of flesh hanging from one of my pauldrons and walked towards an unsealed gate.

With every step I took in the direction of the gate, I felt the gradually increasing pull of a strong presence drawing me somewhere oddly familiar. Soon I noticed that my surroundings had somehow changed from the drab ambience of whirring machines into a grand passage that greatly resembled the former grandeur of my castle. I could hardly believe my eyes.


	8. Freezing Void

"What kind of miracle is this?"

I thought that I was dreaming at this point, but could not shake off the authenticity of each minor detail that I observed. It was as if centuries had not passed and my castle was still in its peak condition. I saw that each tower, each ward, each gatehouse, spire and gate was fully restored before me just like the day I first mustered up the courage to infiltrate the accursed location that would later be my home. Completely enchanted by the magnificent display before me, I began to question the gaps in my memory the first time I awoke in the city. What had caused my castle to remain in ruins in the real world? My home had always been linked to my very being. With each resurrection I would always find myself rising up along with it and yet this time not only did I find myself austerely lacking in power but my home had not yet risen up from its state of ruin. Had another seized control of my power while I slept? The thought was inconceivable but I kept these questions in the back of my mind as I paced forward, looking for some clues as to what was going on. It all felt so real. So much so that I could not tell if the past few hours had been just a sick nightmare or if the events prior to my crossing the gate had truly taken place. There was something in the deepest recesses of my memory that did not make sense. I didn't even remember how I was put to sleep centuries ago. I scanned and recalled the events of my life while exploring the vast emptiness of my castle. I found that although most of my early memories were very much intact, I could only recall shadows and vague fragments of the centuries leading up to my awakening in a vastly different world.

I remembered squeezing the very life out of Lucifer's throat as I held it, unleashed all my holy energies and incinerated him, hurdling him back into the pits of hell. I remembered the events of my life before Carmilla's orphaned "daughter" Laura begged for me to free her from her immortality, transforming me into a creature of the night in the process. I remembered spilling the Forgotten One's life force, ending the belligerent creature's suffering after I stole its limitless reserves of power. I remembered it all. Yet everything afterwards seemed like a blur. If only I could find a clue. If only I could find a single lead to answer why the rest of my memories have been so fragmented after I woke up.

I traced my way past the chandeliers and torch-lit watchtowers until I reached the central keep of the Bernhardt Wing in the northern reaches of my fortress. Waiting for me at the gates was the same young boy who greeted me in the city streets. His sudden and unexpected appearance drew my attention to the absurd dream-like quality of my experience and convinced me that if not for the past few hours, I was certainly asleep right now. I decided to follow him anyway. Perhaps he held some significance in the rather entertaining phenomenon I found myself caught in.

"Who are you?"

"Follow me if you wish to recover your sword."

I did so, slowly retracing his steps as he ran ahead of me. Eventually I lost track of him but as I chased, something came back to me. I was not sure what it was, but it was this overwhelming feeling of deep regret. Even though I could not tell where the emotion came from, I felt its pain rivalling that of losing Marie. Whatever it was, I was now desperate to find out.

After crossing a few more gaps, I found the boy waiting for me right across a long chasm in between two ruined balconies. There were three great chandeliers in the way. These seemed sturdy enough for a person to stand, and were held together by thick metallic chains. I jumped on top of them, using them as short platforms until I reached the other side where the boy was waiting for me. Once I landed on the balcony, the boy took one stern look at me and angrily stated,

"You'll pay for what you did to me and my mother!"

Suddenly, I felt a small light illuminating the deep depths of my lost memory. I remembered what it was that caused that paralyzing feeling of regret. A year before my battle against the Lords of Shadow, while I fought against the forces of darkness in the name of God, my dear wife Marie was with child. I never knew of its existence, for the Brotherhood compelled her to hide my own son from me, fully knowing of the prophecy that foretold my turn to darkness. They knew that in my quest to defeat the Lords of Shadow, I would turn into a creature worse than all three combined, yet they thought this to be a worthy trade. If one of their best warriors was to become the greatest Lord of Darkness, then it would give them all the tools to manipulate him since they held the safety of his family and the history of his character. Or so they thought. No matter how much they would deny it, I was their vile creation, and I stood as the greatest testament to their failure. In their arrogance they thought they could triumph against evil by sacrificing one of their own to become that which he hunted his whole life. How wrong they were. They would spend centuries trying to hunt me down, not just because of the evil I represented, but because of the great shame that it was they who created me and they who led me down this path.

Those damn bastards thought it wise to train my son in secret, crafting him into the perfect warrior that would one day fight against his father, even if it was in vain. I never even had the chance to hold my son, until the fateful day when I would meet him in combat and deal a fatal blow, never knowing his name until it was far too late. As he lay dying he pointed to the prophetic Mirror of Fate in the chamber where I fought him. It was here that I found out of the boy's true significance, and why he fought with such ferocity and with such fervor against me. I was a personification of his shame. He was a reflection of the damnation that would haunt me for the rest of my days. While I spent my early days pillaging distant lands with the united forces of Cornell's lycans and Carmilla's vampires, my son spent his life fighting against my own evil, neither of us knowing of the other until the day he forcefully burst through my castle gates, skilfully slew a good portion of my castle guard, and challenged me face to face. Had I known who he was at the time, I never would have fought against him. Now, with my thoughts made slightly clearer, I was I able to call upon his name with absolute certainty.

"Trevor!"

He may not have been the young man of twenty-seven that I fought and unwittingly murdered, but I knew it was him. Perhaps this was a way for me to make up for my past sins…to finally raise and protect the son that meant as much to me as my treasured wife. The boy, in the prepubescent appearance of my late son beckoned for me to follow him further into the chamber, where I could detect a large supply of freezing void energy. He ran towards another dark corner, and I lost sight of him once more.

I proceeded to scale past a few collapsed stairways and broken walls in the chamber until I reached a long hallway leading up to a pedestal displaying an old favoured weapon of mine

"The Void Sword…"

I examined the pristine condition of the sword, remembering its long service to me. After consuming the Forgotten One's immense power, I gained the creature's ability to manifest my thoughts into physical form. After years of pain and emptiness, my powers eventually gave rise to this blue spectral blade whose size and shape I could alter at will. The elaborate runes on the sides of the blade emitted a ghastly glow that seeped through the symbols, freezing everything that it touched. Anything unfortunate enough to cross blades with me as I wielded this weapon would meet an agonizing end starting with their limbs gradually freezing as I meticulously parried their strikes with my blade and ending with them losing their life force as the blade sucked it dry with every slice. I felt a nostalgic sense of excitement welling within me as I approached the blade. It would seem, however, that the castle had something else in mind.

Manifesting themselves into formless rivers of blood, the disembodied souls of the lives absorbed by the castle begged for my return.

"Don't leave us, my Prince…don't go…"

Twisted by the dark influence of my power and bloodlust, these souls which festered for hundreds of years eventually gained the capacity to fuse together into a singular demonic presence that possessed the entirety of the castle.

"…Your place is here…This is your home…We are your children…"

Much like I had been in my early years as a vampire, the castle's blood craved nothing more than the addition of more souls to its repertoire.

"We are your true family…"

It hungered for the essence of more powerful souls, until one day its master met an untimely slumber and it was starved for longer than it could endure.

"You can't leave us alone. We can't exist without you!"

Now the castle lusted for the soul of its former master, and would stop at nothing to be complete.

"Please, stay with us!"

The castle's walls quivered as they steadily cracked, collapsing into pressurized geysers of blood.

"Look at what you're making us do!"

It meant to swallow me inside the hallway before I could get to the Void Sword, thus preventing me from regaining more of my power. Not wanting this to take place, I swiftly ran with inhuman speed, scaling the collapsing floors and walls of the hallway until I reached its end. Before I could reach the sword, the castle swallowed it in a fountain of blood before it reformed its pieces into a gigantic stone golem. The gruesome creature made out of blood and stone was empowered by the castle's corrupted essence and the Void Sword that it captured. One of the golem's "eyes" glowed with the intense energies of the Void Sword, sending beams of freezing energy in my direction.

I summoned my heinous red gauntlet for this occasion, and crafted a long sinuous whip crafted out of my blood. Despite the many options I gained during my dramatic rise to power, I could never abandon the training that I underwent as a human. My dexterity and speed at using a whip was unparalleled against other warriors in the Brotherhood, and was only somewhat rivalled by Trevor's inherited aptitude for the type of weapon. I nimbly dodged the bulky creature's slow blows, striking at its pressure points to tip it off balance. In doing so, I crackled the whip with such strength that it disintegrated the golem's stone limbs into pebbles and dust. I continued in my furious assault until the monster's blue eyes glowed even more intensely and sent a beam of energy too quick for me to react to. Within that same moment I was encased in ice, unable to move while the golem reformed whatever it could recover into its body. It stole more pieces from the surrounding towers and transformed into an even larger creature dripping with the blood that comprised most of its new form. Its asymmetrical limbs lumbered clumsily but with such force that each step it took would shake the chamber and weaken the support beams of the castle wing. I was but an insect compared to this gigantic creature, but it is not like I have never faced creatures of this magnitude before.

I helplessly remained encased in my thick cage of ice until my instincts activated yet another favored past ability. Leaving nothing but a crimson cloud of smoke in my wake, I magically transported myself a short distance away. Now having regained the ability to teleport, I made short work of the small titan made out of blood and stone. I dashed forward, alternating between my blinding speed and my teleportation to confuse the monster. This allowed me to control the tide of battle as I disintegrated larger and thicker pieces of the titan with my Shadow Whip until I got to a prominent area in its chest where the Void Sword had been stored. I grabbed onto the blade's handle and forcefully tore it from the monster's torso, leaving behind a gigantic man-sized hole.

This did not prevent it from reforming however, and I knew that in order to finish the creature off, I would have to weaken it by draining its life force. Now holding the Void Sword in my hand, I had the exact tool that I needed. I twirled the blade, feeling the familiar coldness of its embroidered handle. Drawing on the blade once more, I altered its size from being a sizeable long sword on its own to a gigantic blade large enough to slice off the titan's limbs in one blow. First I struck its heels, knocking it out of balance before I used its own weight against it to make its torso land on the blade's edge, further exposing its core. I restored the blade to its regular slice in order to make more precise cuts onto its neck and arms before I finally stabbed it into the exposed core where the Void Sword was once contained. I felt the pressure as I jumped into this junction and poured more of my magic into the blade, enlarging it once more and destroying the core in the process. The resulting explosion split apart several pieces of the titan until only its head was left and I found a glowing blue jewel where its eye previously glowed. I took the jewel, feeling the strong void energies it emitted and fused it with the sword. With this primordial Void Gem, I would now be able to project void energy past the sword's edge.

Shaking my wrist slightly, I sheathed the Void Sword into its pocket dimension and carried forward. My short battle against the stone titan had ripped apart large portions of the castle wing which made several floors impossible to access on foot. Luckily I no longer had the need to cross distances on foot and could now reunite with the wandering image of my son. I found him just in time to stop him from being attacked by a group of twelve wingless vampires that were in my former employ. The vampires recognized my authority and each bowed with reverence. Before I could gain some much needed information out of them, I felt the castle's malevolent presence once again making its move. Large puddles of blood appeared beneath the vampiric warriors, slowly swallowing them as I covered Trevor's eyes from the gruesome spectacle. They tried to resist, but were dragged down further into the puddles by abominable tentacles crafted from hardened blood. They reappeared from the blood portals a few seconds later.

"You are not our lord, anymore…"

"So be it."

Until I could find the source of the evil infestation corrupting my castle, fighting would be pointless. The castle would only gather more troops until either I or it surrendered. Regardless of if this was a dream or not, I had neither the time nor the patience for that to happen. I quickly dispatched the vampire warriors while Trevor huddled in a corner a short distance from where I was. After impaling the last of the group with my sword, I pulled it out and turned to Trevor, who seemed none too surprised of the entire ordeal.

I gazed into his hazel eyes and remembered more of his story. In my desperation, I fed Trevor some of my corrupted blood, hoping that it would heal his wounds and revive him. It did not work, and so dressed him in a shadowy armored cloak and boots anxiously anticipating his return. I buried him in a tomb in the same chamber that he died in and waited. It was during that time period that my fury would reach its peak, and I enslaved every man, woman, and child, slaughtering as much of God's children in the name of the child that the Brotherhood had taken from me. It would take another thirty years for Trevor to awaken. With my immortality running through his veins, and with a deep-seated anger at what he had become, Trevor renounced his former identity altogether and came to be known as a white-haired vampire knight deeply opposed to his father's wishes. In his anger Trevor would adopt the name Alucard, the name I Christened him with as he lay entombed, not yet knowing of his true name. He vehemently refused to feed on humans, and instead chosen to devour the life-giving essence of the monsters he would slay in his search for meaning beyond death. He hated me in life for what I had done to him and the world, and hated me even more in death for what I was forced to turn him into.

"Son…I had no choice."

"Yes. You did."

Those words carried a special meaning, making me remember Alucard's speech on the night he and I would inevitably face each other in combat yet again.

"Look at me. You've made me a monster! Father, you've made me a creature like you—a creature that thirsts for blood, filled with hatred. You should have let me die that night…"


	9. Burning Chaos

The young boy in Trevor's likeness handed me a talisman with a wolf's image engraved onto it. The small object felt warm to the touch, and reminded me my great love for my lost and wayward son.

"Use it, and I will come."

I turned to put the object away inside my cloak. While I did so, my son vanished once more. Wanting to spend some more time with him, I took out the object that he had given me. Shining with the reflection of a full moon, the object called upon a gigantic white wolf which then howled as if to draw me to where it was. It waited near a doorway in a balcony directly above where I was. I teleported near it and followed its lead into a magical portal.

Meanwhile, the blood of the castle was not quite done with its chase, and seemed to follow me into the portal without my knowledge.

"Where are you taking me?"

I turned to the wolf and looked at my surroundings. The shadowy scenery before me was submerged with the thoughts of the rebellious castle. The formless wasteland of the area wriggled and writhed into different shapes while the wolf and I walked on a road paved with interweaving connections of dried blood. Without another sound, the wolf continued to walk forward. It entered another portal, and I followed suit.

I blinked and realized that I had just walked into the other side of the gateway in the real world. It was as if the past hour had never happened. Looking ahead, I saw a lady dressed in a long white overcoat smoking those cigarettes that Zobek was so fond of.

"What in hell is going on in here?!"

She impatiently bellowed as she stomped past the disfigured puddles that were her guardians.

She and I saw one another and she trembled in fear upon the realization of whose ground she was treading.

"So the Dragon still lives. We thought you dead."

She devilishly smirked while sensually touching her upper thigh.

"If I had known you were coming. I would have made myself more…presentable."

I formed my crimson gauntlet in anticipation but before I could spring my fearsome whip, she had already teleported behind me, grabbed my arm, and tossed me down a glass window into a larger arena below. She was unbelievably fast. So much so that even with my heightened vampiric senses I was barely able to keep track of her movements. She punched down the metallic gratings below us and pulled up electric cords which she then used to channel her electric powers and to act as a makeshift weapon. My whip would be insufficient to reliably hurt her. I would need the freezing powers of the Void Sword to take her down.

Still unsure of whether or not my detour in the castle truly happened, I concentrated and extended my arm, finding my ghostly blue blade securely nestled in between the grips of my cold fingers. Somewhat surprised at this unusual outcome, I diverted my focus back to the battle and sent wave after wave of void energy in the likely places the witch would show up in, eventually freezing her in place. Once I did so, I momentarily stunned her by shattering the glacial cage I captured her in. This greatly reduced her speed, enabling me to beat her down within an inch of her life using a combination of my Shadow Whip and the Void Sword acting as support. She continued to tease me during this ordeal and in spite of her empty taunts, I could detect the slightest tinge of fear in her corrupted voice. Eventually I was able to take her down before she could wreak much havoc.

"Is she dead?"

Zobek asked.

"No, only unconscious."

"Good. You need to take her back to my headquarters. We may be able gather some information out of her. I'm opening a portal."

"No…wait!"

As the witch's body entered Zobek's portal, I detected a strong surge of demonic energy. The stench was unmistakable. She was one of Satan's acolytes. Right before her entire body was converted into smoke to gain passage into the magical gates, she awoke and playfully winked at me.

"He fell right for her trap!"

The surge of burning demonic energy sent me reeling back before I could enter Zobek's portal. It closed before I could enter it.

"Damn you!"

Though I could not physically reach Zobek right away, I mentally alerted him of the acolyte's identity and how he had fallen right for her ruse.

"I should be able to hold her off Gabriel. I have sent my Lieutenant to your location. Now, take care of the other acolytes!"

Once inside Zobek's headquarters, the acolyte hysterically laughed.

"So this is where those meddling mental signals were coming from. I knew someone was trying to spy on me. I cannot wait to tell my brothers and father of this. How lovely it is to think of my father's punishment for you, mighty Zobek."

"How naïve of you, my dear. Have you never realized that I was always hiding in plain sight for all these years? Despite that, have you never noticed how I have never been detected, least of all in my abode? You are in my realm, demon, and I will gladly strip you of your soul!"

Zobek sent her flying with an invisible wave of magic only to be knocked down by a fiery shockwave of demonic energy.

"Empty words from the washed up so-called 'Lord of the Dead.' My father will have such fun playing with you. Maybe he'll even let me teach you a thing or two about the joys of inflicting pain."

"We shall see."

Although Zobek was not fond of direct combat, he knew that the need would eventually arise. He did not wish to suffer through his inability to effectively fight, especially given his humiliating defeat at the hands of Satan a distant millennia ago. The age-old tales and folklore about the grim reaper of souls did after all have some truth to it, and Zobek's true form reflected that very force of nature. Through the centuries that followed his defeat, the immortal sorcerer delved further into the dark arts of necromancy and found new and powerful ways to manipulate souls. While he searched for the scattered and broken pieces of the Vampire Killer in the abyss, he telepathically ordered his necromancers gather as much souls as they possibly could in the human world. They did so silently and as subtly as possible for several centuries, until eventually, there was such a great well of souls that one day Zobek finally found enough power to return to the realm of the living. He would eventually use the surplus of souls left over from his resurrection ritual to empower a gigantic life-stealing scythe which he wielded with utmost skill. It circled comfortably around him moving about as though he had another set of limbs. The bony weapon was harder than most metals on earth but with his magic, the Lord of the Dead was able to manipulate it to be as flexible as he needed.

The acolyte was not about to be outclassed by this senile old fool, and so quickly recited an ancient incantation that allowed her to draw upon her father's magical reserves. The energy consumed her, changing her humanoid form into something much more grotesque. The sheer amount of power released by this transformation blew the top portions of Zobek's tower, leaving her enough room to fly with her newly sprouted demonic wings and immediately alerting the nearby populace. Of course, her brothers in hell were also able to detect this huge surge of demonic energy. This meant that I would not have much time to hunt the rest down.

Alerted of my presence, the demons in the facility tried to hunt me down. Their numbers were much higher now, and even though they were nothing more but an inconvenience, letting them live would undoubtedly spell more disaster later on. I summoned my whip and split their torsos with ease, cleaving both through their flesh and their souls with the Void Sword. I could likely do this for hours, but I had more important matters to attend to. By the time Zobek's Lieutenant had arrived, I had already slaughtered around thirty horned demons and a few stray humans who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire. The complex was an unrecognizable wreck at this point but I did not care since our element of surprise was already spoiled. I ordered the armored warrior to take care of the rest before I morphed into a flock of bats and quickly flew to the clock tower where the next acolyte was hiding. He merely nodded before drawing out his fearsome sword and eliminating the rest of the monsters in the facility. His drawing stance and swordsmanship reminded me a little of my son, which made me worry about his whereabouts while this madness was taking place.

The spiritual disturbances were clearly starting to get out of hand. Though the occupants of the city were unable to detect the source of the invisible signals subjugating them into extreme paranoia, there was one holy warrior who noticed, took up arms, and rushed towards the largest collection of evil energy in the city.

Eventually I arrived near the second acolyte's clock tower, noting the lack of air vents in the area. There were no other entrances other than the clock face itself, which emitted demonic energies too great to ignore. Whoever the second acolyte was, he was quite the fearsome creature indeed. I teleported through the building, skipping the many guards he had stationed near his room. I then hid myself in the darkness, patiently stalking my prey until I had him at a prime location. Once I got there, I was greeted by the second acolyte who was patiently reviewing some scrap pieces of loose paper. He was a tall hairless man fully dressed in black. He was skin was ghastly pale and covered in wrinkles even though the frequency of his heartbeat indicated that he was about the same age as the first acolyte. With his back turned, he opened his mouth, speaking to me as if he had known about my presence the whole time.

"Are you what all the fuss has been about? My sister has already told me of your visit. I know you are there."

"Then you must know what will happen now."

"Of course. You will try to kill me and accomplish nothing. You may have frightened my dear sister but you will do no such thing against me."

"Now why is that?"

Pointing towards the large screen in front of him, he activated a switch which showed my earlier encounter against the first acolyte's guards.

"I have seen your prowess in combat and you are indeed as fearsome as the legends foretold. However, you must know that you will fail here, and that my father Satan wields power beyond your darkest nightmares. You may succeed here, but it will be all for nought. Your long absence has led to your ultimate demise, Dragon."

"We shall see about that."

I projected myself out of the darkness and reverted back to my humanoid form. With my sword drawn I approached the acolyte who then began to laugh.

"What is so funny?"

"Nothing. Just how easily you fell for my trap."

I noticed the orange sigils that formed beneath my feet and quickly teleported out of the way. Before I could fully reform, the acolyte blasted me with lightning emitted from his fingers, weakening me and plunging me down on the ground. He continued to laugh, all the while approaching me until his hands were on my face, still emitting those painful bursts of electricity that I hated especially while I was human. I momentarily phased out of consciousness, and awoke in the outer reaches of my castle.

"Another dream…"

I zoomed past the castle grounds trying to find an exit. Eventually I encountered an elevator which pulled me from the castle grounds down to the city of the damned. This fire-laced township surrounded by lakes of fire and molten steel was the home of the gorgon sisters Euryale, Stheno, and Medusa, who governed the realm where I kept my dungeon jailers, harpies, and bloody skeletons. One of the snake-like sisters came to greet me shortly after I arrived.

"Euryale."

"Beware of the Jailers…they no longer serve their master. Medusa has your Chaos powers."

She turned her back and began to flee.

"Wait."

I summoned my Shadow Whip and captured her before she could escape any further.

"I have no time for this, Euryale. Show me where Medusa is and maybe I'll let you live."

I tightened my grip, slowly squeezing the life force away from her until she yielded and I let go.

"Come this way."

I followed Euryale's child-like frame into several locked gates, none of which were any problem due to my teleportation. Euryale then fled to call upon her sisters so that they could give me the Primordial Gem that Medusa held. Eventually I unlocked the mechanisms leading to the Chaos chamber where the searing flames of Chaos were hidden.

There was a burning snake-like statue situated at the end of a long hallway crowded by the petrified remains of several dozen Brotherhood knights foolish enough to venture too far into my territory. Their frozen expressions were forever immortalized by the magical stone gaze of the gorgons. The statue seemed to recognize me, as it greeted me by extending its arms where the bare flames of Chaos were being held aloft.

"My Lord…the power of Chaos is yours…"

I reached toward the swath of flame and allowed it to completely consume my being. This soul-searing flame was a manifestation of the undying fires of my rage. Forged in the kiln of my inner turmoil, the flames of Chaos allowed me to burn through most objects with ease, not only blazing a path of destruction in my wake but allowing me to physically tear out men's souls and burn them with the merciless intensity of hell itself. Within moments, I was able to regain my control over it and focused the hellish conflagrations into both of my forearms, reforming the Chaos Claws. I withdrew the power and let it retreat calmly into my being. Satisfied, all I had to deal with were the matters of regaining the Primordial Gem that the sisters held and returning to the second acolyte.

I wasted no time looking for a way to escape this isolated realm. I checked each source of spectral disturbances in the area, scanning for clues on how I could escape. Eventually, I came across a familiar face. I chuckled at the sight of that irritating Chupacabras tightly locked in a magical cage. I hated this creature and all the distractions it wrought in the name of mischief. It relished its mischievous merry-making at my expense during many a time, stealing my mystic relics and forcing me to chase him around while I was a human. After my conversion, I made sure to…negotiate a type of agreement with it so that it would no longer bother me. I succeeded, and the creature became my official merchant for many years. At least, until he crossed me once again and I trapped him in this cage once and for all. I had a feeling that the creature could lead me out of this place and back into reality, so I worked with it to break the cage and free it from its bonds. I let him know full well that if he did as much as think of betraying me again, I would not hesitate to take his life from him. He hesitantly agreed and opened up a portal leading back to the surface of the castle.

Upon my return to the castle I found that the blood of the castle had not wasted its time. My fortress was barely recognizable at this point. Where there were once majestic towers of stone there were now crumbling ruins being absorbed into a deep pool of blood. This sea of blood now encompassed a vast majority of the castle grounds, swallowing more and more of its foundations with each passing moment. Its whispers were loud and the screams of pain within were all too noticeable. I saw a portal deep within it in a small alcove protected by stone. I swiftly dashed towards the pool of blood, using floating slabs of rock as platforms as the formless creature aggressively retaliated. The blood hurled itself in a huge wave of agony, screaming for their master and expressing their twisted desperation. Once I was within a reasonable distance, I jumped into the portal, knowing that the wave of blood would follow me where I went. If this dream was somehow tethered to reality in some way, then the sea of blood would follow me in the same way that I was able to regain my sword. I rushed through the shadowy in-between plane separating my consciousness and reality until my consciousness resurfaced in the real world where the acolyte was still busy electrocuting my face. I smiled at him and his complete inability to anticipate what was about to happen.

"Yes, that's it! You must enjoy the pain. Know that this is only a fraction of what my father will do to you once you are in his domain!"

He was pleasantly surprised. In his mind, my expression was that of a man being driven mad by the pain inflicted on him. His smile then faded into an expression of pure boredom.

"This has gone for long enough."

"I agree."

Endless streams of blood began flooding the walls of the clock tower, painting the scenery with a deep shade of red and twisting the ticking gears of the clock into a halt. The floors began crackling, revealing disfigured tentacles of solidified blood and the torn limbs of my many victims throughout the ages.

"What in hell's name is this?"

The acolyte yelped in sheer panic, blasting the growing pool of blood with his lightning but to no avail.

"What was that you said about not fearing me?"

I sadistically laughed at the situation and the acolyte's cowardly squirming as he backed off into a corner like a scared animal.

"This isn't supposed to happen. This isn't supposed to happen."

"Here I thought you had expected your death already. How pathetic."

I continued to laugh while the blood of the castle swallowed both me and the terrified acolyte and dragged us back into its nightmarish dimension.


	10. Memories of the White Wolf

It has only been a few hours since my father awoke from his long state of slumber. Centuries have passed since our last encounter, and it seems like nothing has really changed in him. I have watched over my father since his resurrection, hiding until he is powerful enough to fight against Zobek and the devil himself. His power has only grown steadily in the hours that he has been awake, and I fear that he will lose focus before his role in this scheme is over. If that should happen, I may have to take arms and fight against him once more. Based on how everything has progressed, it seems that I may have to intervene again sometime soon.

Since his return, the people of this city have become more cautious and fearful than usual. This was only natural, for anyone who has ever stepped foot in Wygol city was aware of its supernatural origins…even if this knowledge only came from folklore and legend. Built upon the remains of Dracula's castle, this city stood as a symbol for good's triumph over the greatest evil mankind had ever seen. According to legends the Brotherhood of Light, a company of knights who dedicated their lives to fighting against evil, and the Dragon's evil armies inevitably clashed in a grand skirmish. At the apex of this climactic battle, a large explosion of light and holy energies vaporized the site of Dracula's castle, completely levelling the demonic structure and leaving a smoldering crater that stretched for several hundred miles. It was as if God Himself had intervened in the battle, channeling His sacred fury through the legions of Brotherhood knights who fought in His name. There would be no remains left of the fearsome Prince of Darkness, and for centuries the world was convinced of his permanent defeat. This victory did not come without consequence, however, as it cost the lives of no less than 500,000 Brotherhood knights who bravely traversed through Dracula's sinister territory in order to lay waste to his kingdom once and for all. In all actuality, however, my father had single-handedly decimated a large portion of the Brotherhood's armies.

Though the Brotherhood considered me to be an abomination due to my vampiric heritage, they recognized their need of my prowess and so I became party to the siege that would ultimately lay waste to Dracula's kingdom. I remember fighting against the lycans, systematically hunting down their lieutenants while my fellow knights slew members of the lower ranks. Soon we were able to infiltrate the gates of my father's castle and it was there that my company saw what had become of the first waves that reached the dark walls surrounding the keep. We were all stunned as we saw the castle sucking in the disemboweled remains of our allies like a starved animal while the Dragon merely watched in the safety of the keep's balcony. The sight was enough for many to unceremoniously soil their garments and start backing away in fear. The Dragon laughed, and then transformed himself into a massive cloud of smoke, crashing down the ranks of frightened soldiers and sending their armored bodies helplessly flailing in the air, instantly dead from the impact. Those who somehow survived were now crippled as they crashed down from heights too great for any ordinary human to endure. With their armors further weighing them down, these soldiers were now impotent in the face of battle and could only cry at the sight of the Dragon approaching them with glee. My father reformed an instant later among another group of soldiers then summoned a glowing red whip created from his own corrupted blood and flailed the weapon at the poor humans who could barely utter a scream before their bodies failed them and they souls were quivering in despair. Within moments, I could see scores of my temporary allies falling by the hundreds as the Prince of Darkness teleported around the immense battlefield and landed blow after blow with his deranged appetite for carnage. He knew I was there, and knew that just like many times before, I would come back to stop him. I could feel the sadness in his strikes in spite of the monstrous façade of anger that he put in its place. Despite this realization, I kept myself resolute with the truth that this was not a man who did not wish to harm his son, but a monster who was slaughtering hundreds of humans at his leisure. Gabriel Belmont was dead.

In the hopes that their soldiers' lives were not lost in vain, the Brotherhood finally dispatched its greatest creation: the Siege Titan. This hulking monstrosity was a moving cathedral in the shape of a giant knight, towering hundreds of feet above us as it approached the Dragon's nigh-impenetrable fortress. With its gigantic metallic claws, it tore away at the castle walls, exposing the structures within and allowing access to the other knights still waiting outside the castle. Within it was the Golden Paladin Roland de Ronceval, with his gilded armor created from a fusion of angel bones and other mystical metals, and a flaming bladed bow which doubled as his swords. For every mundane human that the Brotherhood trained, there was an exception that stood above the rest. Sir Roland was the epitome of that hierarchy of excellence. He and I were usually at odds during the events leading up to this siege, but we soon came to respect one another as worthy rivals and even worse enemies against the Prince of Darkness. If there was any hope of winning this war, it would rest upon this man's capable shoulders.

Perhaps the biggest flaw in the titan's design was its sheer size, which made it downright impossible to ignore. Although this made it quite imposing to most other foes, my father was not one to be bothered by it. In spite of the carnage that was being wrought against his fortress, my father still took his time personally disemboweling the knights were so bold as to challenge him personally. Once he had had his fun, he turned his attentions to the gigantic cathedral and transformed himself into his true form. He was not known as the Dragon purely because of his acts of wanton destruction and his affinity to burning the remains of the villages he terrorized. He was known as such due to the terrifying form that he employed once he had finished playing with his toys. The form was that of a gigantic winged dragon composed of chaos fire and hardened scales of solidified smoke and ash. With a scream that triggered mankind's primordial terrors and a soul-devouring flame, my father in his draconic form was not a creature to be trifled with. There were times where he led his armies with this form watching over the skies, personally burning Brotherhood strongholds and single-handedly laying waste to heavily-defended fortresses and kingdoms. This night, he would use this form to personally tear apart the Siege Titan, tearing its mechanized joints away from their sockets and burning its remains while its operators screamed in pain and terror.

The titan would fall within seconds, taking with it the last of the Brotherhood's pride and most of the knights' bravery. Standing near its remains was my father who shook the dust off one of his pauldrons and dared the Brotherhood to challenge him again. In this moment, Sir Roland de Ronceval stood among the crowds of frightened soldiers and challenged my father, as did I. Unsheathing the enchanted metals I used to forge my beloved Crissaegrim, I stood in front of the Dragon who looked upon me with such sadness that I was convinced that perhaps he could still be saved. Sir Roland and I circled around the great monster and relentlessly struck at him, Sir Roland with his dual swords coated in holy flame and I with my enchanted sword. The Dragon nimbly dodged our strikes and parried with his ghostly blade, purposely avoiding my vital regions while mercilessly striking at my ally. Sir Roland adeptly noticed this, and thought that I was only deceiving him and the Brotherhood when in actuality my father did not have the heart to kill his son again, even if the same immortality did run through my veins. Regardless of this possible misunderstanding, our mutual goal was still in front of us, and we would settle this dispute once the day had been won. In a futile bid for victory, Sir Roland held my father by the arms as he stood behind him, while I steadied my blade to stab the Dragon right through the heart. This was a direct reflection of the strategy my son Simon and I used during the first time I faced and defeated my father in combat. Knowing this, there was no way my father would fall for the same tactic again. I hesitated for a second, which gave my father the opportunity he knew would come. And so he teleported behind Sir Roland, plunging a glowing red gauntlet into the famed knight's torso.

I stood by uselessly while my father tossed the knight's ragged body to the side and approached me with a pleading look of deep remorse. Before he could say a word, Sir Roland took out a gilded crucifix and started chanting for the power of the seven archangels. My father turned to his crippled body and laughed once more, grabbing onto the crucifix without any ill effects. He then started chanting alongside my former rival and in an impossible exercise of blasphemy completed the ritual, sending forth a holy blast that, as I would later find out, expanded through the entirety of Dracula's kingdom. I was nearly knocked unconscious from the force of this blast but for some reason felt no harm. Once the smoke had cleared I could see that my father was just standing in the epicentre of the blast staring at the distorted burning cross in his hand with an expression of blank apathy. I approached him with resolution, with my sword held firmly in its sheath. I knew that he was far too powerful to compete against in combat and knew that if I was to defeat him, it would not be through brute strength. So I carried on with the rest of my plan and then briefly laid him to rest for the time being.

For years after Dracula's defeat, people were too afraid to cross the collapsed borders of the accursed fortress, which was an understandable position due to the widespread tales of the brutal tortures and monstrous inhabitants that haunted the ill-fated landscape. This view would be held until eventually the tales of Dracula, the Brotherhood of Light, and the Lords of Shadow who once oppressed mankind, were reduced to that of legends and old folk tales. No remains of these monstrous beings could be found, greatly supporting the belief that none of these events had truly taken place. Led by skeptics and empiricists, the world rapidly grew in scope, dominating its previous eras through unimaginable leaps in technology and culture. Soon the widespread belief of Wygol city's origins from Dracula's legendary final battle was abandoned in favor of scientific accounts of a large meteorite that tragically crashed into the site of a lush medieval kingdom. The world had forgotten about my father's existence altogether.

It is because of this stimulating chain of events that my father's return was so threatening. Since his return, there have been multiple sightings of unexplainable non-human presences looming in the city, leading people to question their age-old beliefs against the supernatural. Many still desperately clung to their skepticism, blaming these so-called hallucinations on the rapid changes in weather and animatronics that would be employed by film-makers seeking to gain fame through exploiting people's fear in the unknown. Even so, there were enough groups of people who quickly fell into the depths of primal fear, cowering for their lives for reasons they could not reliably explain. Their human instincts were telling them to flee, and thankfully some did. Unfortunately the streets became more crowded as a result, with impatient drivers yelling at others to move out of the way. The congested roads and highways became a sea of lights and noise whose unrelenting waves of domineering passengers nearly deafened my ears.


	11. Angels and demons

The pained screams of the long dead brought me back to my senses, waking me in the hellish dimension that I realized was being sustained by my own power. Tethering itself to reality, the desiccated remains of my former abode sprang to life and used my being as a power source to keep itself sustained. After centuries of sleep, of nothingness, it resurfaced alongside me like a parasite steadily feeding on my very essence. The walls it had swallowed much earlier had reformed into far more grotesque shapes, only vaguely resembling the keep that I inhabited so long ago. Now its walls were composed of disembodied spirits begging me for release as I approached. Their worn limbs reached out to me in all futility, trying to grab on to the last fragments of sanity they had left. Their skulls and bones carpeted the floors, forming an elaborate tapestry held together by sinews and soft interweaving networks of freshly skinned flesh. With every step I took, the hallways would writhe in eternal agony, screaming every so loudly for escape. Dark pools of blood would flow out of the cracks in the walls, coating everything in a sticky miasma of scattered remains. These were what was left of the people that I slaughtered and they were now trapped as I was in an endless hell of torment.

The massive turrets and towers that once stood proud were replaced by disfigured structures greatly resembling the sinister tentacles that came after me the first few times that I visited this place. In the central courtyard of my fortress where most of my grand battles were fought was a gigantic pool of blood which I dared not cross. Something powerful was sleeping beneath the surface. Based on the amount of energy it radiated I gathered that this lake of anguish was the source of the unholy structures trying to refashion the castle of my mind. I peered into its murky waters and saw hundreds upon hundreds of skulls composed of my victims and the unholy beasts I once had in my employ. In a sudden moment of clarity I realized why the castle had been so empty during my earlier visits. Assuming that the castle itself took hold within the confines of my mind, any creature unfortunate enough to be in its grounds prior to my defeat centuries ago would have been trapped inside. Amongst the multitudes of lycan skulls, vampire wings, hunchback spines and other broken human remains I saw pieces or armors that undoubtedly belonged to the Brotherhood of Light.

Visions of a great war then started filling my mind, and before long, I saw fragmented images of a colossal mechanized titan and hundreds upon hundreds of men that I personally disemboweled within the castle grounds. While I tried to make sense of these startling new memories, the creature slumbering beneath the surface of the pool began to wake, as if it was aware of my innermost thoughts. I took a step back and summoned the fires of chaos in between my fingertips. I approached with caution, ready to pounce on my prey if it dared to surface from the murky depths of the blood-spattered pool. Fortunately it did not, but my troubles had not yet subsided. Descending from the heavens in a fine red mist was a being that greatly resembled the lovely Carmilla, former master of the castle and one of the Lords of Shadow. She ceremoniously bowed and kneeled before me.

"My Lord."

"Carmilla."

I grabbed her by the jaw and examined her features closely. From a glance she looked exactly like the late Queen of the Vampires before her turn to vampirism. The pale seduction radiating from her bright blue eyes reflected a sinister desire that beguiled me into grabbing her by the neck. For a brief moment I was tempted into kissing her but resisted, thinking only of my dear Marie. Whether this figure was real or just another illusion I did not care. She was one of the bastards responsible for my fated turn to darkness. I tossed her aside and watched her pick herself off of the ground.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

She devilishly smirked while wiping off some blood dripping down her supple lips.

"Simple, my Lord. I hold your very life in my hands."

I felt a sudden tug beating at my chest, as though some type of dormant force was forcing itself free. I was unable to maintain my composure and fell to my knees.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Are you really so blind that you cannot see what is happening? Have you forgotten whose blood it is that gave you new life? Whose blood runs through your veins?"

"N-no!"

The history of my supernatural blood draws back to Carmilla, who in the process of becoming a Lord of Shadow became the original vampire and the rightful heir to the hellish abominations. For reasons possibly spurred on by her human past's desire to have a child, Carmilla kidnapped a poor village girl named Laura and turned her into one of her first vampiric minions. Fashioning her into the daughter she never had, Carmilla treated Laura with the highest pleasures that the world could offer but at a high price. Before Carmilla could perfect her process of converting her brood of vampires, her minions were often bestial and damn near mindless for at least a few decades. It would not be until much later that her demonic servants would be able to manifest more human-like forms and better fit in with the society that abhors them. Whether these damned souls can remember these fragile years I will not begin to speculate, but from what Laura would later tell me, it would seem that she remembered them all. With Carmilla's blood flowing through her veins, Laura was able to eventually manifest similar powers to that of her "mother's," the only difference being that of Carmilla's seniority and great power. Still, she would be unable to change her form into anything other than the little girl she used to be…an appearance she nevertheless used to her advantage as a merciless predator filled with a brutish lust for blood.

On the weeks following my victory over the Lords of Shadow, it was Laura who informed me of the terrible return of the Forgotten One, the sovereign of the Plane of Darkness who had been trapped by Carmilla, Cornell, and Zobek long ago. Trapped beneath the Bernhardt mansion that Carmilla vigilantly inhabited was this creature of unimaginable power. Once sealed by the powers of the former Brotherhood founders, the cage that kept the Forgotten One trapped had weakened with every Lord of Shadow that I killed on my quest. Even after finding out that my Marie was lost to me forever, and that my quest had been in vain the whole time, I was left no choice but to face this monstrosity. After answering Laura's call and fighting alongside her to the depths of the Bernhardt estate, we finally encountered the portal that would lead us to the Forgotten One's dimension. It was here that Laura made her choice. Acknowledging that only dark beings could go to that foul place without harm, and that she was not nearly powerful enough to fight against the Forgotten One, she asked me to partake of her blood. I reluctantly took a few measly sips, only realizing the powerful poison that it contained when it was too late. I had to consume every drop of Laura's blood in order for it to pass on the curse of immortality and give me the darkness that I needed to pass through the dimension. Without giving me a choice, Laura begged me to continue drinking her blood, both of us coming ever so close to death in the process. Once I partook of the final drop of her blood, she was gone. Her plan had succeeded. I felt my body being transformed into that of a creature of the night and as I did so, I felt the last remnants of her life force fading away. She had earned her rest. Now equipped with an infinite fury, I was able to take out all of my rage into the Forgotten One. That demon would feel pain beyond imagination and I would not rest until I had made it beg for mercy and forgiveness for getting in my way, but not before I succeeded in stealing the vast majority of the creature's immense stores of magical power.

In many ways, Laura and I lived similar lives, and it is to her that I owe my accursed immortality. Poor, dear Laura. She was nothing but an innocent child corrupted by the remnants of Carmilla's twisted humanity. She had no memory of her parents, or even the life she had before being inducted into the ranks of unholy beasts. All she remembered were the many lifetimes where she lived in agony, wishing for the merciful light of death in exchange for the many lives she has taken to temporarily satiate her everlasting boredom. What kind of a God would allow such a tragedy, where children are forcefully taken from their homes and beguiled into becoming slaves of darkness? In my anger, I would never know but however futile my attempts to spite Him, no matter how many more lifetimes I would have to live to defy His design of life's duration, I had decided long ago to forever be a thorn in His side.

It was only a matter of time before Carmilla's consciousness resurfaced within the blood flowing through my veins. Like a slow vial of poison, it waited for my will to be weak enough in order to strike. Sensing that my powers have been steadily growing, it must have resurfaced and manifested itself in the chaotic landscape of my mind, twisting its borders to that of its own. I would not be surprised if the force that transformed my castle into this hellish landscape came from Carmilla's doing all along. Since I arrived here in that first "dream," I knew that I had lost control over my own estate. Now it would seem that in my carelessness I was also starting to lose control over my own body. I could feel my life, my will, and my soul fading as my blood compelled me like a puppet on a string, like one of those armored guards that I played with hours before. How ironic that the mighty Dracul should fall victim to his past, by the power that allowed him to last this long, no less.

With only an inkling of my consciousness remaining, all I could do was watch as my empty shell of a body softly stroked Carmilla's cheeks and then deeply kissed her with lustful ecstasy. I jerked at the sight and wished for my end then and there, when a familiar warmth gave me the strength I needed to resist. I heard a loud smack pushing Carmilla out of the way while I pulled myself away from her grip. Standing before me was a presence that I frantically yearned for every day of my painfully unending life. The beautiful vision of my wife Marie indignantly faced Carmilla with the same righteous yet jealous fury that made me fall in love with her all those years ago.

"Just what do you think you're doing to my husband!"

I stuttered, immensely shocked by her sudden appearance.

"M-Marie!"

I stood still at the sight of her, slowly regaining control over my body. Carmilla would not stand for this, however, and relapsed infuriated at the sight of her rival.

"How dare you get in the way of _my_ Gabriel, you whore!"

"_Your_ Gabriel? You have done nothing but cause him great harm, demon. How _dare_ you try to take control of him?"

"What do you know of harm? Was it not you who knew that Gabriel's quest was in vain all along? That his frantic search for the God Mask would never bring you back from the dead? _You_ were the one who deceived him! Now tell me who is truly to blame for Gabriel's eternal suffering."

"The Brotherhood told me what he would become. I had no choice! Because of you and your brothers the souls of the dead were unable to ascend to their rightful place in heaven. If I had told him the truth about the God Mask, he would never have finished the quest and saved the world! I knew that deep down inside, Gabriel would throw everything away in order to save me, but I couldn't selfishly stand by and watch the world suffer for it."

"Ha ha! And in return your dear husband has inevitably turned into something far worse than the very monsters he hunted down! When it all comes down to it, _I_ am the only one right for him. I may be partially responsible for his turn to darkness but I did not deceive him to such lengths that he _wanted_ to turn into a creature of the night by the end of it."

Carmilla then turned her gaze towards me.

"Admit it, Gabriel. You've always _wanted_ me, from the very moment we met up until the moment you murdered me through a deep…misunderstanding. Join me now, my love and I will forgive you for all your mistakes and your flaws. You need not suffer through eternity alone. I will be there with you and I will never betray you."

"Is that why you're trying to control him now? Is that why you seem so desperate to captivate him with your spell? For all your claims of being in love with Gabriel you must admit that you _need_ your tricks to hold his attention. The simple truth is that he will _never_ love you Carmilla, and he will _never_ go to the same lengths to try and save you as he did with me."

Marie lovingly gazed at me with her pale blue eyes. It was all she really needed to do to break me out of Carmilla's spell.

"You insolent wench! Once I'm done with you, he will be mine!"

Carmilla grabbed hold of Marie, choking the life out of her. She gazed at me once more.

"You know what you must do, Gabriel."

Still weak but regaining enough control of my body I lunged towards Carmilla, who predicted my action and transformed herself into mist in order to escape. The force of my sudden movements was still propelling me at unimaginable speeds and so I quickly grabbed Marie in an embrace and used my back to cushion the impact that crushed a nearby pillar to dust.

Watching over us with a menacing glare, Carmilla reformed back and bellowed.

"You'll never leave here, my Prince!"

Once again I felt the blood of the castle taking hold of my surroundings, forming deep pools that summoned the mangled corpses of creatures that were both enemies and allies alike. As they did so, Carmilla took the opportunity to turn into a cloud of crimson mist and fleed, leaving spectral trails that I could easily track but would fade soon enough. I kept Marie safely behind me as these figures surrounded us and prepared for an inevitable attack. I lost Marie before. I would not do so again.

Summoning what was available to me at the time, I was able to procure the gauntlet that allowed me to use the Shadow Whip. I used the weapon's elongated range to keep my enemies away from me, all the while keeping an eye on my Marie, who seemed to be their sole target. I swiftly carved through their bodies using the power of my very own blood, eventually absorbing enough of their life force to summon a bloody shockwave that covered a large part of the room, sending waves of my enemies flying in quick succession. I knew that this exercise was futile, since the blood of the castle would cause the corpses to endlessly reform within seconds, and so I picked up Marie into one of my arms and leapt away into safety, following Carmilla's misty trail.

"There, Gabriel!"

Marie pointed towards a narrow stony corridor still uncorrupted by the castle's malevolent presence. I knew that this place would not remain in this condition for very long and so I rushed against the castle as it once again tried to collapse the floors and walls surrounding us. We approached the corridor, knowing that even as the castle impeded or progress by knocking down our surroundings, its inhabitants were still ceaselessly following a short distance behind us. I hurried and charged into one of the walls, knocking it down with ease. My powers were steadily re-emerging, and Carmilla's luck was running out.


	12. The vampire's tower

Marie and I soon entered through an eerily familiar tower. After absorbing the sights before me, I realized that we were in the throne room where I first fought Carmilla a distant millennium ago. The floors collapsed, trapping me and Marie within the confines of the makeshift arena and slowing the band of monsters heading our way. We saw Carmilla waiting at the centre of the arena.

"What a disappointment you are."

I drew the shimmering azure blade of my Void Sword to my aide and prepared to strike.

"Wrong choice."

Using only a bare hand, Carmilla parried my blow and reflected it back at me, sending me back with a small shockwave of electricity that knocked me into the ground. She then turned her attention to Marie and telekinetically trapped her within a cage of rubble.

"Now let's see how you interfere, you bitch!"

"I know that you can do this Gabriel."

Carmilla's laughter resonated within my ears, causing me to once again lose control of my body.

"Now you're going to be mine!"

"No Gabriel! You must fight back!"

I focused on Marie's presence and somehow felt a strange elation, as if the common emotions felt by my long lost humanity were beginning to surface after an eternity of slumber. This gave me the power to keep moving despite Carmilla's best efforts to subjugate my will using our shared blood.

Though she was in the guise of her human vessel, Carmilla's vampiric powers were as powerful as the day I fought her. Using her teleportation and supernatural control over lightning, she blasted me, making sure not to miss. With her blood already exerting its strong presence over my mind and body, enough injuries would make my body collapse. This would allow her to finally assume complete dominance over me, subjugating me into the slave she has always wanted. Without the Dark Gauntlet that I once used to reflect her lightning at her, I was left no choice but to lithely dodge her electric barrage. Despite the impossible speeds of her magical blasts, I could anticipate their strikes using the predictable pointing movements of her fingers. I dashed forward, sending forth saves of freezing void energy to slow her down, until she no longer had the upper hand. With enough blasts I was able to freeze her in place much like I was able to against the first acolyte, however before I could strike her frozen bodice she morphed herself into mist and regrouped. This caught me momentarily off guard, and I was mere inches away from being blasted by a bolt of lightning. I was able to block this by catching the bolt using the Void Sword, which hungrily devoured the magic.

She continued to use her mist form to dodge my strikes, blasting me with her electricity while I absorbed more of it into my sword. Now charged with electricity, the crackling blade of my sword was able to send freezing blasts of magically charged lightning that were able to knock Carmilla out of her mist form. I took advantage of the moment and caught Carmilla's neck in my hand. Squeezing ever so tightly I began to suck out her magical energies, exerting my will on our shared blood in much the same way she tried to control me. Rivers of her blood flowed into my mouth, filling me with power and draining hers at the same time.

Feeling her innate power draining away from her, Carmilla angrily shrieked.

"Bastard!"

I then felt the immense grip of a great vampiric being welling up within the Lord of Shadow. Using nothing but her rage and mastery over her own spectral energy, Carmilla manifested her beastly vampiric form, with its demonic bat-like features prominently showcasing her grotesque gigantic wings and spear-like talons. Equipped with the powers I regained from draining her blood, I transformed my body into mist and escaped the construct's grasp, further angering Carmilla in the process. In her rage, she reformed the walkways leading to the arena which led the swarms of blood-corrupted monsters to crowd the field. They mercilessly attacked me while Carmilla turned her attention to Marie's cage.

I did not yet regain my ability to teleport and could not skip through these mindless minions, however, I did possess the ability to slip through them unharmed using the power of mist. I wasted no time and rushed towards Carmilla, knocking her away from Marie using a backhand swipe. I slashed at her with the Void Sword in one hand while keeping the surrounding crowd at bay with my Shadow Whip's greater range. Knowing that the monsters would once again reform, I exerted my own influence over the blood puddles I reduced them into. This allowed me to not only take them down for good, but also gave me a way to fight against the castle's influence later on. I noticed that as I did so, small portions of my castle would return to stone and the corrupted influence that infested it with blood and suffering souls faintly subsided. Once I was done with them, the crowds had either retreated or were absorbed, and Carmilla was reduced to the upper half of her torso, with half of her face loosely attached to her exposed spine. I picked her up by the hair and asked her about the presence in the castle.

"Ha HA haaa…You think you have succeeded now, my lord, but it's only a matter of time before we take over. Just you see…"

Carmilla slowly turned into ash, and I could feel her spell fading away. Satisfied with my steadily returning power, I turned to Marie and freed her from her cage.

"Marie..."

She looked upon me with those same loving eyes.

"Gabriel"

"Are you real…or just a dream too?"

"I am here."

I looked at her with an unimaginable look of mixed disbelief and regret. I rested my hand on her cheek, instantly dispelling my doubts if for but a moment. She smiled ever so slightly as she leaned on my hand.

"What power is behind this? You're standing here as if a thousand years had not passed since the last time I saw you alive…and what of the things Carmilla spoke of earlier…about you deceiving me…"

"You have to know that this suffering had to happen, my love, for the good of the world. There is not a single day that passes in heaven where I do not regret what you had to go through. I feel as responsible for your fate as you do with my death. Beautiful as heaven may be, I cannot truly enjoy it while you are trapped in that accursed body for eternity."

She caressed my cheek with her soft warm hands.

"I have missed you so much, and you have no idea of the hardships I had to endure to talk to you once more."

"And what of our son…hidden deep inside you…?"

"I had to protect him from you, Gabriel. They knew…They told me what you were going to become. I had no choice."

"And did they tell you of your own death at my hands? Did they tell you about what would happen to our child? Did they? Did they tell you that blood would fight against blood for all eternity? You…were deceived, Marie. Tell me…is this God's reward…for the devoted and the foolish?"

"You are no fool, Gabriel."

"I am no longer Gabriel, woman! I am the dragon, Dracul! I am the Prince of Darkness! I am, and will be, forever, a thorn in His side. THAT…is my vengeance."

Marie looked down and sighed in exasperation, as though my outburst was nothing more than a little child's.

"I know who you are, and I know you want this to be over. I have been sent back to help you."

I felt the pangs of remorse eating away at me. To this day I regret the foolishness that compelled me to speak in this moment.

"You cannot help me…You're not here! You're not real."

I turned my back upon the realization of what I had just said. I could not bear to face her in my shame.

"I am as real as the blood that is poisoning your mind as we speak."

She sighed in frustration.

"This castle and its inhabitants fear that you will leave this place forever. They will stop at nothing to keep you here. Your power keeps them alive!"

"I know. This place has been my home for many centuries. Now…all I want to do is escape."

I recollected myself past my misery and turned back to face her.

"I've seen our son, here. This is no place for a boy!"

"It's no place for you either, Gabriel. It never has been."

"It's time for you to go."

She inched closer to me and held my face with both her hands.

"It's time for you to come return to us...to your family."

A warm glow emanated from her fingertips. The light was too bright for my eyes to bear and so I shut my eyes after drinking in the fresh sight of my Marie. I did not know what divine power allowed me to see her again, and whether she was truly there or merely an illusion was inconsequential. I was happy to at least experience what it felt to be around her. As I opened my eyes, the strange shapes in front of me took a clear tangible form. I was back in the clock tower, kneeling down in the exact place I was in when I encountered the second acolyte. I could not see where his body had gone and assumed that the castle had had its way with him. I chuckled lightly, still finding the whole outcome to be quite amusing. I arose and turned behind me, barely dodging the purplish glow that emanated from the enchanted blade of Zobek's Lieutenant. His movements now seemed far too slow for me, and this only helped my cause. I warped a short distance behind him by partially morphing my body into mist and then reformed, smacking the warrior like the dog that he was.

"Enough!"

I heard Zobek after he exited a portal a short distance away.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"I should be the one asking questions, Gabriel."

"What do you mean?"

"Look around you. This is not what we agreed upon!"

I gazed outside the broken windows of the clock tower into the city. On the western side, for as far as I could see, there were masses of people gathering with lit torches, crying at the name of Satan for their salvation. On the eastern side I could see the emergence of gigantic tendrils and deep pools of blood, the likes of which I saw in the castle starting to infect the city with its bloody tears. The putrid stench of demonic energy was overwhelming, and I did not need to be at the top of Zobek's tower to see that the gates of hell were starting to burst. Dozens of hell's minions emerged from dark portals flickering with green energy.

"Just what happened while I was gone?"


	13. Zobek's interlude

In a short matter of hours, I was put against one of Satan's acolytes during which time my old friend, Gabriel, left to pursue her brothers and hunt them down. She was a stunning creature that valiantly fought indeed, blasting off the roof of my tower to pieces as she transformed into a form that fittingly displayed the corruption in her soul. Her body resembled that of a sphinx, an ancient beast spawned by the old gods in a time long forgotten. Half her body appeared humanoid in appearance, sporting reptilian eyes and scaled claws with hardened crimson and black "feathers" that extended a small distance from her forearms. She had a matching feathery plume running from her head all the way to her back, which contained four separate wings with purplish eye-like sigils evenly spaced out in between each gigantic extension of its leathery borders. Her pale scaly complexion complemented the black lines that ran from either side of her "hips" all the way to her chest. A closer inspection revealed these lines as being the borders of a second mouth. As I evaded her violent swipes, I noticed the sharp shark-like teeth that covered the linings of this abhorrent orifice. I did not look forward to falling prey to that outrageous structure but I unfortunately was faced with the displeasure of encountering its contents. She lunged at me with a long, black, whip-like tongue coming from that foul blade-lined maw of hers. I slashed at the tongue in disgust and retaliation, severing its connection and absorbing a part of her delicious demonic essence. She naturally screamed in pain.

It was an ideal duel, she knowing nothing of me, and I knowing nothing of her. I studied her movements from the flaps of her wings to the subtle twitches in her claws right before she made a complete motion. I admit that I was not always too fond of battle and often avoided it as much as I could if I could help it. And so I waited patiently, setting up my barriers while distracting her with my malevolent scythe. All I needed her to do was make a few mistakes…mistakes I knew would come sooner or later. Despite her sheer amount of raw power, she wasn't too bright when it came to countering my tactics. The first thing that I did was set up a barrier around us. This not only limited her mobility by grounding her, but it also hid our location from the other acolytes. Though my tower was built to counter magical detection from creatures such as her, I could not help but take extra precautions. The Lord of the Dead did not survive this long without precautions after all, and it is because of this that I was able to lure this creature into my domain without worry. Regardless of the outcome from Gabriel's battle, I simply could not resist the urge to consume this being's soul and partake upon the limitless knowledge that she had about her father. I only had to get her to exert a sufficient amount of power before my tower's built-in countermeasures activated and drained her. I would then siphon this power into myself, completely humiliating her and then letting my minions consume her useless flesh.

I purposely tricked her into unleashing all her power and in her pride she has ultimately lost the moment she stepped into my fortress. Soon the moment I had been waiting for had arrived and she triggered my tower's magic, draining her of her powers and making her will vulnerable to my commands. I laughed heartily while pulling her soul towards mine, using my scythe as an anchor and my body as a conductor. Before the final blow was struck, I tore open a portal into her psyche and absorbed her essence, her knowledge, and her soul.

Yes, the power was magnificent, and soon not only would the devil pay for deceiving me, but the Dragon himself would beg for mercy at my feet.

Satisfied with my new meal I checked up on my friend to see how he was doing. He was alone when I sent him, but I had no doubt in my mind that he would be able to subdue the other acolytes with ease. Even as a human, Gabriel was an unstoppable force that none of us could afford to underestimate…a mistake that my siblings in arms ultimately failed to realize. Now, having inherited Carmilla's vampiric authority and the Forgotten One's limitless power, Gabriel was a monster much darker and far more beautiful than any creation in heaven or hell.

Ah Gabriel…no one could have guessed the monster that you always kept within you. No one could have guessed that you would be the most fit to succeed me and my siblings in reshaping this steadily dying world. Those acolytes do not fear you, but they will learn as me and my siblings did. You may be weak, but I can feel your boundless hunger and desire for power gradually rising to their formerly unimaginable heights. You will conquer them. I know it. They will struggle and they will try their hardest to beat you down, but even with the powers of Satan at their very thrall they cannot hope to match your influence.

I waited at my tower and contacted my many subordinates. The gates of hell were opening, and I had to slow it down before the devil's return. I called on my many connections, composed of liches, necromancers and a few hundred undead minions whose service I acquired by restoring enough of their intelligence. These networks of minions siphoned enough power to disguise their appearances in an elaborate charade while they infiltrated nearby offices, businesses, and corporations. Reporting all to me at the promise of fully regaining their souls, these wretched fools served me with full devotion. Together, we were able to rise above the ranks of these useless humans and rule among them in the shadows for countless generations. Of course, I could find several competitors working for Satan, all preparing for his imminent return. I would not be short-handed, of course, and the devil will soon find that I had planned for this long before the dragon's mysterious disappearance.

There was of course one loose end that had to be taken care of and unbeknownst to my old friend, I had already sent my Lieutenant to assassinate the traitorous creature that he called a son. The boy had been so careless, leaving his trail all over the city for me and my men to follow. Within weeks, we were able to finally track him down and with my Lieutenant's confirmation, we were able to find the location of Gabriel's sleeping body.

Ha ha! To think that the boy wished to protect his father, only to lead us directly to him! That stupid, stupid creature! He was unworthy of inheriting his father's name and heritage. This proved to be true both in life and death. My only regret is that I was not able to see my trusted Lieutenant severing that pathetic Alucard's pampered head. Now with things going exactly according to plan, there will be nothing to stop me once that suicidal shell of a monster has met his inevitable end! I fear what might happen if Gabriel finds out about his son's cruel demise. I have seen his hatred and his capacity for revenge, but I am confident that I can use it to my advantage. Now there is no stopping his rise to power and soon, his fearsome might will eclipse even my own. Good…soon he will be unstoppable, and his hatred of Satan will send the fallen angel back to the hellish cage where he belongs before he can even step outside its borders.

Go my friend. Go and hunt down those arrogant acolytes! Show them the power of the Dragon and send them to their bloody deaths before they summon their father. Only then can we finally gain what we desire most.


	14. Legacy of the Belmonts

My name is Victor. Victor Belmont. For years I've dedicated my life training in what used to be known as the Brotherhood of Light. After the Brotherhood's invasion of Dracula's castle 500 years ago, most of our members were lost in battle. A long period of peace soon followed, and the church decided to hide all evidence of the creatures of the night following the incident. The historical archives talked of mankind's need for a new start, free from the fear that gripped them and free from the terror of the Dragon. This was a difficult process but after generations of steady progression, those who had personally witnessed Dracula's reign began to die off, and those who claimed that the Dragon's existence was real were treated like lunatics. It didn't take long for all information regarding Dracula and the Lords of Shadow to be buried, but mankind's tight grip on superstition was a force that no one could truly get rid of. Unfortunately, in order to reduce Dracula's tyrannical rule into mere myth, the Brotherhood's adventures and its very existence had to be hidden as well. As a result, the Brotherhood now had to recruit its members in secret, ironically hiding from the light in order to make it shine brighter in the hearts of men. The church reasoned that with Dracula's reign ended, there would be no need to amass a large army of followers. The organization now had to be more compact and its members more devout in order to maximize its influence in society. The Brotherhood of Light decided to spread out into society, spreading the news of God's grace and crafting a new religion for the people to rally behind. This quickly growing faith eclipsed that of many others, in the same way that the old gods lost their power once they relinquished their rule over to our God. The time for old religions was coming to an end, and what better way to establish a rich mythos than to have one all-encompassing faith that trumped all others.

The history of my family is quite an illustrious one. At first, we knew nothing of our true lineage, but after digging through the Brotherhood's archives we were able to find out much of what time had buried. Much to the Brotherhood's shame, our original founder, Gabriel Belmont, was responsible for single-handedly defeating the Lords of Shadow only to abandon his faith in God and turn to darkness. In the centuries following his victory he would be known as the Dragon, Dracula, and the Brotherhood would do everything in its power to stop him. Knowing of the prophecy that would lead Gabriel to his ruin, the Brotherhood planned ahead and recruited who they thought would be the best candidate to defeat him. His son, Trevor Belmont, was trained from childhood in secret to assassinate his own father. His existence was hidden from Dracula altogether, and this allowed Trevor to grow up to be one of the greatest warriors ever trained by the Brotherhood. His skill and power met no match and soon he was able to single-handedly storm through Dracula's fortress and challenge the tyrant—a feat that not even a full company of knights could accomplish up to that point. Unfortunately, he was defeated and the Dragon was able to find out about his son's true identity. Greatly angered, his hatred for mankind and the Brotherhood increased to unimaginable heights, and he attacked several Brotherhood strongholds, killing more of our members in the process. The land would be torn by his prowling beasts, and the Brotherhood's members only continued to dwindle during this time. My ancestor Trevor's wife, Sypha, would unfortunately perish during one of these sieges, but not before protecting her son from the Dragon's fury.

Fate smiled upon humanity for 30 years later, Trevor's son, who miraculously escaped Dracula's sieges following his son's death, trained to be one of the fiercest warriors of the period following his late father. After living most of his life in the White Mountains, my ancestor Simon Belmont one day marched to Dracula's cursed territory to challenge the Dragon's reign and avenge the death of his parents once and for all. To his credit, he did not do so alone. That same day he was helped by a mysterious white-haired vampire knight who possessed as deep a hatred of Dracula as my hot-headed ancestor's. Together they stormed Dracula's fortress and fought against the Dragon. The battle was fierce and long, and the Dragon seemed to have the upper hand. However, my ancestor's iron will accompanied by that mysterious vampire knight's cunning allowed them to temporarily subdue the tyrant, which then allowed my ancestor Simon to land the final blow to the Dragon's heart. Using Trevor's old Combat Cross which he acquired after traversing through Dracula's terrain, Simon finally ended the vampire king's unholy rule.

This boosted the people's morale and gave Simon his very own post in our holy order. Simon would later live the rest of his life hunting evil with his righteous fury. Though he had the authority to send backup in his missions against the armies of darkness, he always fought alone. During his later years, Simon helped to organize several countermeasures should the Dragon return. He clearly remembered the day that he slew the Dragon, and heeded his white-haired ally's doubts about the tyrant's death. Although Simon never encountered Dracula again, his efforts in rebuilding the Brotherhood allowed the organization to reach numbers far beyond the order's comprehension. It can even be said that without Simon's contributions to the Brotherhood and his many evil-slaying voyages to distant lands, the Brotherhood would never have amassed the great army that would one day end Dracula's reign permanently.

Our organization owed a deep debt of gratitude to Simon and my lineage. Although the world would never truly know of their heroism, it gives me great pride to recount their contributions to the shaping of our history. As great as Simon was, he was not the only Belmont to carve his name in history. True to the vampire knight's prediction, Dracula's presence resurfaced one hundred years after his defeat at Simon's hands. Thanks to ample preparations and ceaseless hunts from the Brotherhood of Light, Dracula's once great army was now smaller than ever. Unfortunately our knights were still no match for those monsters once they amassed enough numbers. This is where Simon's grandson Juste would shine. Showing an indescribable mastery over holy magic, this ancestor stormed the rotting gates of Dracula's reforming castle and with the help of his fellow knight Maxim, took down the Dragon just hours before he could fully awaken. Some say that it was pure luck that he was able to kill the Dragon before he could truly fight back, but others say that the information came from that illusive vampire knight. Whatever the case, the Brotherhood now gained a method to extend the world's peace for at least another century more.

Effective as this method was, it was impossibly risky, and there was no way to tell if Dracula would still be asleep the next time his power made itself known. The Brotherhood once again made their preparations, putting the next hundred years to good use. The great general Hector with his skill at using both light and shadow magic helped to train the rest of the Brotherhood's army, equipping them with further enhanced light and shadow medallions that later helped them to enhance their prowess in combat. More of Dracula's minions perished during these later periods and fortunately, Hector and his forces were once again able to counter the Dragon's forces before the tyrant himself awoke from his long slumber. It would not be until the next century that the Belmonts would be needed once more.

400 years after Dracula's initial defeat, the Dragon awoke once again. Sending forth an army more numerous and terrible than the last, he was able to decimate most of the bustling towns that had recovered in his absence and with his renewed fury, easily dominated the heavily strengthened Brotherhood strongholds. Their holy magics had no effect on the Dragon, and they found themselves fearing Dracula's legendary influence over the night and its children. Unable to tolerate the Dragon's return, Juste's descendant Richter Belmont took up arms once more. Equipped with his very own Combat Cross that mirrored the original Vampire Killer, Richter challenged the Dragon while he was in the middle of another siege. Situated in the centre of a burning village, Richter fought hard against legions of golems, armies of skeleton warriors and even took down a terrifying Wyvern before finally meeting face to face against his ancestor. He used his then-unmatched skill in combat with the magical knowledge of my ancestors to form a trap that limited Dracula's powers in the realm. Now only limited to his ghastly whip created from his own fiendish blood, the Prince of Darkness fought fiercely against Richter's raw aptitude for combat coupled with centuries of planning from the Brotherhood. Richter would emerge victorious from this climactic encounter. Having been humbled by Dracula's return, the Brotherhood realized that the only way to defeat him was to send its great army to the forefront along with the colossal beast that had taken them decades to create. With the help of the elusive vampire knight that helped Simon defeat the dark lord the first time, the Brotherhood was confident in its sure victory. The records are completely blank with regards to this point in history but it is generally accepted by the remaining members of our order that the great crater that surrounds Wygol city and stretches outwards throughout the continent was the result of a cataclysmic explosion of holy energy that eradicated Dracula and his monstrous armies. No one knows what truly happened there, and the only factual account ever recorded following the event was the sighting of a gigantic white wolf emerging from the rubble following the dark lord's defeat.

It has been 500 years since that historic event and the world will never know of the sacrifices that were laid for them. They are fortunate in that they will never experience the horrors hidden by the night. I envied them and their mundane lives.

I continued to wander around the great halls of the Brotherhood's hidden archives, endlessly fascinated by the tales of our former warriors and ancestors. The magical scrolls they held recorded their innermost thoughts right before they died, ridding them of the need for ink or extraneous effort. Some of these recordings were very grave, and served to forewarn other members of the dangers lying around their area. Others were quite humorous, telling tales of their conquests for food or women. I was just about to finish one particular scroll that talked about lycan riders and the enormous lupine mounts they called wargs, when I received a call from an old friend.

"Victor, pick up your damn phone! This is urgent."

"What is it Sonia?"

"We've detected several spectral spikes all throughout the city, just like you said. Something's about to happen, and based on all the demons we've seen running around, it's something big."

"I'm on my way. Where are you?"

"I'm waiting near the town memorial at Victory Plaza."

"I'll see you there, then."

"Victor, one more thing."

"What?"

"Make sure to bring your gear. I don't think these things take too well to guns and silver bullets, but I'm sure your musty old relics would help too."

"Got it."

I headed further down into the Brotherhood archives and opened the supply closet containing my belongings. Contained within were the holy relics once used by my great ancestor Gabriel Belmont in his fight against the Lords of Shadow. It seems that after his conversion to darkness, he abandoned these relics altogether and left them scattered in his castle. Decades after the great explosion, the Brotherhood sent excavation teams that found these scattered all throughout the rubble. It's amazing that these relics even survived despite that large continent-spanning explosion so many years ago. They were old, but their power was every bit as present as the day my ancestor put them on. Now I had to do the same. Equipped on my left arm was the Dark Gauntlet which stored magical energy and greatly amplified my strength. Its fiery contents also allowed me to project its hidden energy into explosive bursts that would surely vaporize any creature unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. On my legs were the Cyclone Boots which boosted my speed enough to rival race horses, but not quite enough to out-speed a car on the freeway. This allowed me to scale walls a little bit easier and use quick bursts of speed while in combat. It took me a while to master it and believe me when I say that out of the other relics, these boots were the biggest pain in the ass. Fused to my outfit were the Seraph Shoulders, an ancient device crafted from an angel's feathers. It responded to the user's will, and manifested large spectral wings whenever we required. Theoretically it should have the ability to support full flight, but I have only been able to master enough of it to make a second jump in mid-air. None of these relics would be as effective without the Combat Cross, which I was fortunate enough to inherit from my ancestor Richter. I could feel the power soaked in its holy chains, as if it was reacting to the evil arising in this city. The rest of my arsenal was comprised of holy water flasks, silver daggers, and a dark crystal that I always saved for special occasions. I holstered my Combat Cross on my left hip and loaded my rifle with silver bullets. Once I secured all my equipment I rushed towards Victory Plaza and saw Sonia impatiently waiting at the top of a four-storey building, right behind the shadows of a gigantic billboard. I could smell the molten silver emanating from the damaged chambers of her smoking gun and could see the piles upon piles of demons dead on the street while the police wondered what the hell was going on. I used the combination of my Cyclone Boots and Seraph Shoulders to easily scale the wall and meet up with her. The crowds were too focused on the dead demons to notice the man running up a wall with angelic wings.

"You're late."

"You're the one who told me to get my relics."

"I was joking. I didn't think you'd actually need those antiques."

"We'll see how far your mouth will take you once those things finally get to you up close. Anyway, it looks like everything is well taken care of in here. What did you need me for?"

"Moral support if nothing else."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"You do realize that I'm the current leader of the order, right?"

"Heh."

"Where are the rest of my men?"

"Scattered around the city in the sniping posts you told us about earlier, they're just awaiting your orders now."

"Alright then."

I reached for my phone and contacted the remaining members of our vastly smaller Brotherhood of Light.

"Men, you see before you that the legends were true. Evil does exist in those monstrous forms that strike terror into the hearts of men. They will terrify you, they will intimidate you, but they will not defeat you. Our group may not be as numerous as the order in its prime, but we are every bit as devoted and every bit as skilled as the men and women who vanquished the dark lord Dracula centuries ago. With God watching over us, I know that we will prevail. Now take up your posts. Use your weapons to your advantage. I will be there to join up with you later. Now load up your silver guns and kick these bastards back to the hell that they crawled out of. _lux numquam morietur!_"

I didn't need to turn my back to sense Sonia's sarcastic smirk, but I knew the rest of my men would get the job done. I felt a distinct surge of energy welling up from behind Sonia, who could only do so much as block its razor-sharp talons with her broken gun. I instinctively reached out for my Combat Cross and crackled its holy chains into the demon's face, smashing it into pieces with the force of a high calibre bullet.

"What a natural. Maybe those antiques really were useful after all."

I nodded while smiling and handed my rifle over to her. She would make much better use of it than I would. I rendezvoused with the rest of my men, offering cover against the demons that were quickly starting to swarm the city streets. The media frenzy surrounding this must have made for quite a show. Just the idea of priests and their holy subordinates taking up arms and killing actual living demons was something that was left to fantasy and ridicule before today. Now all that the people could do was watch while we did all the work, protecting them from the evil that they had completely forgotten for centuries. With help from the local authorities, we were able to barricade several city blocks and evacuate dozens of groups of civilians from the chaos that was consuming the city. With the police and my men holding off the progression of these demons, I rushed towards a basilica emanating large amounts of demonic energy. It seemed as if this place was the source of this madness, and I had to be there to end it.


	15. The Dark Priest's message

It was no coincidence that the basilica belonged to none other than Guido Szandor. That gluttonous fraud of a priest has been at odds with my sect of the church and has long ago been excommunicated as a result of the lies he spread to countless congregations. Disguising his message as the good news of my God, this false priest secretly relayed messages of satanic origin, twisting the truth to fit his own ends. His message greatly appealed to the masses, granting him access to positions of power among politicians and corporations. However after a fierce inquisition meticulously hidden under the guise of a scandal, the priest and his congregation disappeared, and the rest of his followers splintered off into weaker, more easily rehabilitated groups. There was no way of telling what he was planning all those years ago before his disappearance, but I have no doubt that this chaos is his doing. I continued to slay the demons in my way using the innate powers of my holy relics and the guidance of my all-powerful God. After slaying another batch of demons on the way to the dark priest, I received another call from Sonia.

"Victor, there's something you need to see. Go somewhere safe and tune in your phone to the local news."

I did so and saw Guido's fat deceitful face on my phone's screen. He was in the middle of rallying more followers using the chaos that he himself started as a way to garner further support.

"Citizens of Wygol city. You see before you the coming of the end times. Innocent people are dying, demons are bursting through the gates of hell, and the rest of you chosen have been put to the ultimate test. Do you see now that my preachings were correct all those years ago? Do you see now that your God cannot help you? Where is He hiding now that the world is falling apart? Where is He to protect you when you all need it the most? While you cower in the lies that the church has taught you, I confidently bask in the light of the truth! Your useless dogma will not save you; it is all based on lies. Only I know the way to survive and the only way to fight back against these vile creatures of darkness!"

Blinded by their fears, hundreds of people gathered near Guido's basilica, eating up the only message that could save them in their desperation.

"You have all felt the pain of losing your family, your homes, and your livelihood, but I tell you now that there is one way to get everything back! Once this night is over, there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more despair. All you have to do is help me summon the Earth's rightful ruler. You have all heard of the fearsome legends about the dark lord Dracula, and how his lust for power once drove the mankind to its near extinction. Do you still think that all this is coincidence? Those so-called myths were real, and these cataclysms only signal his return!"

He pointed towards a large screen showing different parts of the city which were being overrun by living rivers of blood.

"Gaze upon the structures that he has recently destroyed."

The screen displayed images of the Dragon fleeing the scene of a burning pharmaceutical corporation infested with the mangled bodies of workers and demons alike. Another image showed Dracula infiltrating a weapons warehouse and flooding its long halls with a large wave of blood that materialized from the thick walls of the facility.

"While his troops massacre your friends and your family, he has personally made sure that your hopes are crushed one by one. The wounded are now dying without any medicine to cure their ailments and our powerful military has been crippled without reinforcements and supplies."

The screens then shifted to other images showing my troops' great struggle against the endless hordes of demons crawling out of the cracks of hell's gates. I was unsure of what was going on and whether or not Dracula truly was responsible for at least some of the disasters plaguing this city. What more for the citizens who only knew of Dracula's legend and were now seeing him and his forces for the first time? They could do no more than toss themselves at the dark priest's feet, begging for salvation from the terror that was consuming their fragile minds.

"The Prince of Darkness has come back to reclaim his throne and you are all going to fall victim to his great wrath. That is…unless you follow my teachings and help me bring back the fallen angel who was sent to eternal damnation for doing nothing more than question his place in heaven, for exercising the free will that was given to him. He is no different from you and I, my children, and he feels all our pain while he suffers in the pits of hell. I beg you all to help me save him and help him save us. Only he can fight against the immense powers of the Prince of Darkness and only he can prevail. You see how this world's forces are destined to fail. Your guns will not work against Dracula's monsters, and as you can see, even your "holy" so-called priests are beginning to be overwhelmed by the sinister creatures! Let go of all your doubts and everything you know. What else do you have to lose? This is the only way you can survive."

He demonstrated his power by blasting a nearby swarm of demons into dust. This show of power instantly impressed the growing crowds and soon more people were rallying for the false prophet's cause. I received another call from Sonia.

"Do you think he's telling the truth about Dracula?"

"I don't know, but you and I both know that he can't be trusted."

Guido Szandor continued to speak.

"Now do you see the power of my lord Satan? Unlike the God that has cluttered your history books, his power is very much real. All you have to do is surrender your wills and allow him to fill you with his power."

He motioned his hands upwards and began a chant. Hundreds of his new followers followed in reciting the Enoquian ritual with their hands outstretched into the sky. Moments later, their bodies were covered in a fiery red aura, which allowed them to blast the nearby demons back. Guido laughed in satisfaction.

"You are now all equipped with the magnificent power of our lord Satan. Now go. Blast those monstrosities apart. Let his power consume you. Together, we will draw out their bloodthirsty master and summon our lord to defeat him once and for all!"

The screams of nearly a thousand blinded fools filled the air with endless noise and an even thicker aura of demonic energy. Guido stared into the distance then left his pulpit at the end of his speech and retired within the confines of his basilica. I nearly shut off my phone in rage at how easily these people were. I knew that I could no longer approach the priest with all his followers in the way. Driven into a mad frenzy by their devotion, they would only misunderstand any action I might take against their beloved prophet.

Surely enough, the Prince of Darkness appeared before the prophet, coldly staring at him with those sinister red eyes. He grabbed the priest and before the priest could complete a prideful laugh, tore him into pieces using a magical red gauntlet. The priest's body was reduced into a fine red mist, and I could see his life force quickly draining into Dracula's gauntlet with every following moment. Dracula turned towards the crowds and vanished, leaving no remains other than a crimson cloud of smoke. As a result of their surprise and indignation, the crowds rioted in a feverish state of madness.


	16. The castle's will

"What the hell is going on, Gabriel? Why are there rivers of blood all over the city?!"

"If you value your life, Zobek, you will leave me to deal with my own affairs."

"Very well, but our agreement is not yet complete. No thanks to your crude methods, the world once again knows of our existence. Do you have _ANY_ idea of what that means for the world?"

"I believe that is _your_ mess to clean up, _old friend_."

Zobek sarcastically smirked, the hatred in his eyes emanating a powerful green glow.

"Regardless of our…disagreements, we have succeeded in eliminating two of Satan's acolytes. Now only one remains. Since your mysterious disappearance with the second acolyte my subordinates have tracked down the third and final acolyte. This one was quite the celebrity…not that you would know what that entails."

"I have no care for this world or its problems. If our agreement is still at hand, then have at it."

"As we speak, the third acolyte has been making his preparations for his father's return. It won't be long before his power is at its peak and his ritual is complete. I need you to make a precise strike against him. You need to be careful. He has gathered enough of his followers in his basilica. He will doubtless use them as shields to distract you with. It doesn't help that they too have been possessed by Satan's power."

"How did this happen?"

Zobek pointed towards a mechanized screen that displayed images of the third acolyte preaching some blasphemous message concerning my return. To be fair, the manipulation was a clever use of the circumstance and it effectively gained the support of hundreds of those despairing dupes.

"What a fool he is, hiding in plain sight where we can easily find him."

"He is. Now with our victory so close to us I cannot help but discuss another matter altogether. In light of recent events I cannot help but revise the terms of our contract."

"This was not what we agreed upon."

"I could say the same about how you COMPLETELY destroyed decades' worth of planning in a matter of hours. These people were not ready to learn about our existence. Had it not been for our combined efforts against the acolytes we would have been doomed! Your presence alone gave them the chaos that they needed!"

"What of it? There is one acolyte left and once he is dead, that should be the end of it."

"Yet the gates of hell are still very clearly bursting at the seams and legions of demons are still rushing out of it. Furthermore there is the _tiny_ matter of those hideous blood rivers that are corrupting the rest of the city. If I didn't know any better I'd say that you were working alongside that conniving bastard Satan."

"Don't you dare accuse me of that you cowardly wretch. One more insolent word out of you and I will personally rip the Vampire Killer out of your broken remains."

"You forget that I can just as easily rip out your own soul in your current state. Watch your pride, young Belmont, for you are no match for me."

"Had that truly been the case, you would have had no need of my services, Zobek. I may not belong to this unknown age but I still know how to tell the difference between a ruffian's bargain and a knave's anxious pleading. Your bluffs hold no substance…no meaning."

I savored the satisfaction of silencing Zobek. Nothing he could say at this point would bode well in his favor.

I focused on the final acolyte's location and transported myself there. For some reason I could feel the vicious pull of the castle exerting its influence on me. I expected to be in the hallway leading up to the acolyte's hideout but regained consciousness inside the confines of my own castle.

"This is getting tiresome! Show yourself, and let us end this!"

The distressed voices of the departed polluted the sanctity of my ears, the chimeric fusion of their endless screams uttering the castle's impudence.

"Now you've gone too far…"

Hundreds of nearly incomprehensible noises uttered the magnitude of their agony. While they did so, I saw the rest of my castle falling apart. Its entirety had now been swallowed into the bloody abyss where the enormous entity had been sleeping. Now I could finally meet the creature that was attempting to usurp not only my power but my mind. Though I at first suspected the force to be Carmilla, our last encounter had convinced me that it was something far more sinister. It was something that made use of my blood's power and drew connections from my own kingdom using my own memories and troops. Then it dawned upon me what could have caused all of this. The sleeping monster awoke from its place of rest, rising above the sea of blood where it fed from my own memories. The weary voices of my past victims howled louder and louder the nearer the creature got.

"Bow down before the Dark Lord!"

The ground beneath me shook, collapsing into a separate dimension comprised primarily on the blood and corpses of my former preys.

"Look upon his greatness and obey his orders…or you will die, here and now…"

There it was, in all its infernal glory. Standing no less than 30 feet above me was a creature of pure corruption, a testament to my hatred of God and all creation. A direct reflection of myself and the inner rot contained within my soul. Its body was incomplete, its frame being composed of a long skeletal spine with rotting flesh attached to an empty gaping hole in its torso resembling a mouth. Its neck further extended upwards and was connected to a head resembling mine. The tendrils that made up its hair flailed about while blood endlessly dripped out of the pores of its skinless flesh. Its empty white eyes peered at me with ominous tenacity. It examined me closely for a couple of seconds then spoke, its voice a deeper octave than mine yet still sounding eerily similar.

"So the prodigal son has returned. Did you have fun running around that weak shell you call a body?"

"Who the hell are you?"

It smiled.

"I am the blood that runs through your veins. I am the dark shadow that chills the hearts of men as you pass. _I_ am the fury…your hate and your vengeance. I am…your destiny!"

I readied my blade and slashed at its neck, sending it screaming in pure agony. It retreated into a huge deformed shell of a body with a lumbering elongated left arm and disfigured tentacles sprouting all over its skinless humanoid body. The seas of blood roared in further retaliation then solidified into blade-like appendages that ceaselessly hurled themselves to me. My mobility had been greatly hampered by the quickly growing liquids flooding the floors until there was no more. I levitated and propelled myself by momentarily transforming my limbs into mist then quickly reforming, using my own momentum to keep myself from being mired in the growing depths. Using this method I was able to dodge most of the constructs but eventually had to resort to combat. I felt that my Chaos Claws were perfect for the undertaking, since they allowed me to burn a fiery swath into the very souls that empowered this shapeless demon.

The insectoid fixtures of the castle's amalgamation of limbs relentlessly hunted me down, sending blinding projectiles made out of reinforced bone fragments in my location. I was easily able to block these with my sword, but I was unable to anticipate the trap that they had been setting up all this time. After a long struggle the castle had trapped me into a cage. In my attempts to dodge and burn as many of its relentless pieces I was not able to anticipate the volley of tendrils that would sprout from beneath me. I was captured in this and slammed into a series of caustic spears that impaled me before I could think to escape using my mist form. The head that resembled my own re-emerged from the depths and commanded the tendrils to slam my head into the pool of blood. As it did so, numerous images originating from the outside world began to rush into my senses.

I saw myself re-emerging from the smoky trail left behind by my teleportation. I saw myself reduce the third acolyte into a fine red mist using my Shadow Whip's gauntlet. Then I saw myself vanish into a nearby rooftop where I captured a nearby commoner holding a glassy-eyed contraption, the likes of which I spotted at the first acolyte's facility. I consciously spoke without being able to control my own actions.

"You are all trespassing on my domain. You miserable insects have trotted along my home for far too long. Have you all forgotten of the Dragon's reign? In any case I'll make sure to remind you all. This is my world and you are not fit to walk in it."

It was as if my body was acting on its own, and despite my efforts I was unable to do a single thing. I helplessly watched as my body terrorized the streets by manipulating the bloody rivers that now covered more than half of the city. It took over demons and commoners alike, forcing its corruption down their throats and into their souls. Endless hordes of panicked necromancers summoned their undead brothers only to be washed away by the unstoppable force of the castle's will. It struggled to manifest itself in the real world before, but with my mind contained and my body captured it could now do as it pleased. It laughed and as it did so, I saw the Lord of the Dead, furiously brandishing his scythe in the visage of his skeletal true form. Through some means I could not explain, I was able to decipher his words regardless of my body's distance.

"Miserable traitor! Now receive your just rewards for your disloyalty! Betrayer!"

Using his scythe as a spiritual anchor, and his tower as a source of power, the Lord of the Dead sent forth a wave of death and miasma that corroded my bloody rivers. Using his vast control over the dead, Zobek converted my rivers of blood into solidified waves of sharpened bone which he then launched into the direction of my basilica, shattering the building into pieces. Following this initial assault, Zobek sent his legions of undead into my direction, adding more to the chaos of the demons, possessed citizens, and blood-controlled puppets that already crowded the busy streets.

"Take his flesh! I'll take his soul!"

Zobek's Lieutenant also wasted no time and made his way as my body adeptly dodged every upsurge of demonic and necrotic energies launched at me. The castle, with its full control over my body, was unstoppable. Once the Lieutenant was within range, he drew on the power of two magical blades. On his left hand he brandished the abyssal blade Masamune, and on his right he summoned the all-too familiar blade of the Crissaegrim—my son's favorite sword. The Lieutenant's hands crackled with the combined energies of the dimensional blade Masamune and the legendary Crissaegrim. The Crissaegrim was forged with the Vampire Killer's missing broken stake—a stake a left behind Carmilla's corpse when I slew her the first time and the shattered pieces of the fabled swords Glaciem and Igneas—respectively allowing him to project void-like energies and chaos-like fires. I started to remember the furious battle between myself, my son, and the Brotherhood's Golden Paladin centuries ago. I remembered how Alucard in his controlled rage, adeptly wielded the sword while I expertly parried each of his blows. The fact that the Lieutenant wielded the weapon could only mean one of two things, and I had to make sure. I recalled how Marie's love had allowed me to regain control over my body when Carmilla took over my blood. The gambit was steep, but at this moment I had to make sure that my son was still alive. I focused my entire being into my love for my son, feeling the heat of battle as we fought and the tragedy of his death at my hand. I forced myself into remembering these dark memories and before long, I was finally able to take control of my body. The Lieutenant continued to strike at me with both swords, sending forth waves of energies that were only accompanied by the onslaught of chaos possessing the entire city. I dodged and took out the Wolf Medallion that Trevor gave me during my first venture into my own mind, clutching onto it with my grip and focusing my feelings of love and regret for my own son into it. The castle's blood would not have this however, and submerged my mind back into my consciousness. Before it did so, I saw the hesitation in the Lieutenant, and the silvery glow of the moonlight reflecting on a matching emblem that he had hidden within his armor. I was momentarily pacified by the realization that my son was still alive, however this was inconsequential. My body had lost its balance and started falling into the chaotic riots below during that brief interim when the castle's blood forced me to relinquish control over my own body. Alucard caught me before I fell, frantically yelling as he did so.

"Father!"

Though my senses had already dimmed at this point, I could hear Trevor's voice reaching out for me. Still in mid-air, I felt his warm hand on my shoulder, which made me remember a pact I had made with him centuries ago. I managed to crack a smile before the castle's blood regained complete control and summoned the Void Sword, stabbing my son as we both fell from the shattered rooftop toward the pit of raving lunatics who were destroying the city. My sight dimmed and I was mercilessly thrown back into the tumultuous dimension of my own mind.


	17. The castle restored

When I came to, I realized that I was in a place that was neither real nor influenced by the castle's malevolence. I saw myself ripping through a Brotherhood siege—the last memory I could recall before my long sleep. I zoomed through the memory, skipping through hours upon hours of the numerous ways I instilled terror on those poor soldiers, and frenziedly searched for my son in the crowds. Near the end of the memory I saw every moment I shared with my son, how I tried my hardest to keep him from amassing harm while punishing the arrogant gilded warrior that fought beside him. I remember gleefully chanting the holy prayer that warrior uttered with his dying breaths.

"_Christus vivit. Christus regnat. Christus ab omni malo te defendat. Maledicti et Excommunicati daemones...invirtute istorum factorum Dei nominum._"

"I was like you once."

I ran my hand across the terrified Paladin's exposed cheek.

"But your God showed me another path."

"_Mesias, Emmanuel, Sohter...Sabahot, Agios, Inchiros...Atahanatos, Jehova, Adonai…_"

I clutched on to his pathetic gilded cross and remarked.

"That's why the power of your God…cannot destroy me. Because I am His Chosen One!"

I began chanting alongside him, noting the fear shaking his dying voice.

"_ubi fuerint haec nomina, et digna Dei, praecipimus vobis...atque ligamus vos ut non habeatis!_"

I felt an immense gathering of holy energies beginning to manifest itself within the cross. Dozens of Brotherhood soldiers and distant onlookers were sent flying by the force of the blast.

"_potestatem per pesten, nec per aliquod…_"

The Paladin was quickly running out of breath.

"_quodeumque maleficium nocere ei_…"

In spite of this, he continued his incessant chants, determined to put an end to me before death passed him by.

"_incantionem, neque…_"

Unfortunately his body had already begun to fail him.

"_in anima, nec in corpore!_"

I finished the chant, unleashing the holy energy of the seven archangels into a roaring blast that encompassed a large portion of my kingdom. The force instantly vaporized my castle and left no remains in the aftershock. I apathetically stared at the deformed and burning aberration of a crucifix previously held by the deceased Paladin whose body was completely destroyed in the blast. How fortunate that he died instantly. I would have hung him on a pike and left him out to dry.

I sped past the memory for a few more moments until my son finally approached me with his sword nestled in its sheath.

"Trevor."

"Trevor died a long time ago, father. You made me what I am. I stand before you, reborn, a vampire….I am Alucard."

I tossed the burnt cross over to him and he quickly caught it.

"Why are you here? You know better than anyone I cannot die. My immortality runs through your veins too."

"Of course. Only my father…Gabriel Belmont…can destroy Dracula."

"It is too late for me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The roots of evil are deep…"

I answered the question I had been contemplating for several hundred years. Time and again I would consider mankind's capacity for good despite the overwhelming presence of evil. Time and again I would reach the same conclusion.

"…irreversibly so in the hearts of men."

I picked up the burnt remains of the broken cross.

"It is their true nature…their destiny."

I could feel Alucard's dissatisfaction with every word I uttered.

"I was their most devoted warrior…a champion of light…but I fell…fell into darkness. And now…I am feared as the Prince of Darkness. Ironic don't you think?"

Alucard continued to maintain a pained expression.

"The mighty Zobek hides from me like the scared rat he is. Even Satan himself is too afraid to leave the pits of hell and fight me. But if I die now, Alucard…they will simply take my place. Evil will prevail…It is the natural order. The world…"

I extended my arms which still held on to the battered symbol of God.

"is like this…"

I shattered it by snapping it in two, then threw its pieces to the ground.

"Abandon…all…hope…"

I could tell that Alucard had heard enough before I could even finish uttering my saying.

"No. What if there was a way to destroy their evil forever, to free mankind from their tyranny? If they believed you dead, they would come out into the light once more, would they not? This…"

He once again brandished his mystic blade.

"…is the Crissaegrim. I forged this weapon from the fragment of the Vampire Killer that you drove into Carmilla's heart. I found it in the castle, all those years ago…the first time we faced each other in combat. If your heart is pierced by this weapon, you will fall into a deep sleep. It will not kill you…but you would lose all your powers and would not be able to resurrect until it was removed."

He examined the ornate sword's features.

"This is…not the true death that you desire…but Satan will think you dead. Centuries will pass and his acolytes will start to prepare for his return. Zobek…will no doubt think that…"

I came closer, speaking as I ran my claws along the blade's sharp edges.

"…Satan is going to return…and he will be beset by panic. Zobek only knows too well that he is no rival for Satan, so he'll look for me…in the hope that I'm still alive somewhere."

Alucard put the blade back in its sheath while I contemplated.

"At the appropriate time…I will remove the sword. I'll make sure that Zobek finds you. He knows that only with your help can the acolytes be destroyed and Satan's return foiled."

"I will be too weak. Zobek will see through the charade easily."

"The long sleep will fragment your memory…Zobek will only see confusion."

"I won't remember this conversation…and Zobek will only see dark shadows in my mind. But how can you be sure I'll collaborate with him?"

"Because…in exchange for your help he'll offer you the one thing you really desire…True death…Eternal peace."

"Zobek has the Vampire Killer?"

"Yes. You thought your weapon broken but Zobek has found the fragments and rebuilt it. Only he can grant you eternal rest. You must allow the last acolyte his summoning ritual to bring Satan to this Earth. We can trap him here…and we can destroy him! Forever! For that to happen, you must recover all your powers again…in order to confront him at that critical moment."

"You're asking me…to free the world from Satan, again? To sacrifice EVERYTHING for humanity…again?!"

"Yes I am. Within this last moment you will hold both Zobek…and Satan within your grasp."

I recanted memories of those two conniving wretches and unconsciously clenched my fist with enough strength to draw blood. The promise of Alucard's plot was too devious to ignore.

"Then do it. Push…"

Alucard drew his sword.

"…that damn sword…into my heart! Before…I change…"

I approached him while he prepared to strike.

"…my mind!"

I instantly felt the potency of the blade putting forth its authority over the creatures of the night. I knew that I only had a few seconds left before my consciousness completely faded. I placed my hand on Alucard's shoulder.

"Son…When…will I meet you again?"

"When I put my hand on your shoulder…father."

The memory ended and I awoke back inside the demented regions of the castle. I screamed with utmost fury after seeing what it made me do to my own son. Ripping out the bloody spears that the castle impaled me with, I began imposing my own will, which allowed me to regain control over the demonic landscape.

"You stupid fools…how dare you harm my son?!"

I focused the landscape and started reforming it based on my own memories of the castle. I realized exactly how much control I was starting to regain when I saw that the blood could hardly fight back.

"No…We can't exist without you!"

Suddenly, the malevolent presence of the castle reformed itself before me, just as I expected.

"You cannot resist our control forever! Can't you see that we have given you everything that you've ever wanted?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You wanted to be feared and we struck true terror into the hearts of thousands of men. You wanted your revenge against Satan and Zobek, and we delivered the perfect opportunity against both."

"What about my son? Was that in any way a part of my desire?"

"Yes. There was no way you could rule this world with his presence and memory weighing down your conscience. Return to us and we will make you whole again…We will erase all the pain that he has caused. It will be as though he never existed."

"Like hell I will!"

I continued to reform the illustrious vistas and imposing towers of my old abode, but left distinct cracks into the ground which led us to the city of the damned situated directly below it. Its fiery lakes were perfect for burning away this insolent parasite feeding off of my memories and my sanity. I summoned my Chaos Claws and set off a fiery eruption on the ground which destroyed the stone pillars supporting the floor. I regained my composure through levitation, while the creature fell to lakes of fire below. It screamed in pain, slowly losing its influence over the souls which quickly perished in the merciless inferno where I once punished those ill-fated enough to cross me at my worst. In a restless attempt to return, the creature fashioned itself into the same skinless monstrosity that tormented me with its endless tendrils. This time, it sought to emulate my levitation by crafting demonic wings made out of solidified blood. It clumsily flew in agony and tried to reach at me with one of its tendrils. With the everlasting flames of Chaos still augmenting my claws, I grabbed on to the tendrils and allowed the creature to draw me into itself. Moments before it could devour me into its gaping mouth I flipped onto its back and dug my claws deep, absorbing its essence into my own. I kicked off and crushed the crimson energy that I gained from it, absorbing the castle's power and destroying the creature's last hopes of escaping. It screamed in agony as it fell deeper into the flames. Moments later, the creature lost its solidified shape and reverted back into a shapeless puddle which then rapidly evaporated until its once all-encompassing size was greatly reduced. After it did so, I saw the souls of the innocent ascending into heaven, while the screaming dissembled souls of those such as the two acolytes I murdered were forever trapped in the everlasting fires of chaos burning below. These souls continued to boil over until a beaten down lake of blood remained in a deep pool where chaos ceaselessly consumed them, powered by their agony. I watched in contentment for what felt like hours. Then I approached this puddle and from my great distance willed it into myself, absorbing the broken remnants of the castle's influence in the process. With my usurper finally vanquished, I turned my back and reformed the rest of the castle to its former grandeur.

Now having fully restored my control over my mind, I jumped back into reality just in time to withdraw my Void Sword out of my son's armored chest and caught him. I was surprised to see the carnage that my usurper had wrought on the denizens of the sunlit world. It was not wrong in fulfilling my innermost desires, but it went too far the moment it forced me to harm my own son. Using my levitation, I kept myself and my son aloft and away from the crowds. I noticed his injuries and heard his pained groans through his helmet. Tearing it off I was once again able to see the pale marble skin that covered his face and the messy tufts of long white hair that drifted in the night's soft breeze. I quickly bit my wrist and gave him a few drops of my blood to help him heal.

"What…was that?"

"I wasn't myself at the time."

Alucard wiped the blood off his mouth and got up. We had mere moments to ourselves before both of us had to dodge the bony projectiles heading our way. Zobek, now fully enraged, would no longer be reasoned with. Despite its insolence my attempted usurper had practically handed me Zobek's head on a platter, and I was not about to waste this perfect opportunity to exact my revenge over Marie's death. I turned to my confused son who doubtless had a few things to discuss regarding my sudden shifts in personality and the plan "I" had just ruined.

"He...is...MINE!"


	18. The three armies

Dracula suddenly vanished into a crimson cloud of smoke, leaving me to recover from the large wound running through my chest. Physical pain was easily tolerable for this immortal body, but I could never get used to incurring harm inflicted on my very own soul. I watched the frantic storm of riots taking place throughout the city while my father pursued the man responsible for my mother's death. Fleets of ambulances attempted to save as many people as they could in order to support the brave men and women who were sacrificing their lives for the mess that I myself was partially responsible for. I should have known better than to leave most of this plan to chance. No matter his motivations or his goals, my father would never stop blazing a path of destruction wherever he went. Now it seems that everything is falling to pieces, and those uninvolved are suffering because of it while we watch from a distance unaffected. I can only judge that based on his actions, my father has foregone his desire to end his immortality and has instead chosen to take his anger out at the world like a rabid animal. It was foolish of me to expect him to change his ways so rapidly, especially with the memories that he lost during his long sleep, but it was my deepest hope that he would think about those he harms through his presence alone. If not for himself then for my mother. So be it. This world needs to be rid of our cursed bloodline forever. I will wait for him to regain the Vampire Killer back from Zobek, then I will take the sacred weapon and stake him with it, ending his reign of terror along with his never-ending suffering. He will no doubt make sure that Zobek does not come back from the dead this time, so I need not worry about the repercussions of the Lord of the Dead's final disappearance. That only leaves the matter of Satan. With Satan's acolyte's dead there is now no way for the King of Lies to manifest himself into the world, but there is no way of ending his reign either. Whether he lives or dies will not change the evil in the hearts of men, but it will give them a new world. One without the interference of monsters that exist to feed on their souls. These people need to be able to decide their own fate, free from the machinations of those who would take it upon themselves to lead them to ruin. This night the innocent will not fall prey to the ravenous beasts that have crawled out of hell. As long as I am alive, no more harm will befall them.

I left the broken pieces of the stone structure I was perched upon and summoned my swords Masamune and Crissaegrim to both of my hands, feeling their enchanted glows complimenting one another. I focused and transported myself to the tallest skyscraper in the city, which just happened to be situated in the Arts District of Wygol city. Peering into the distance I was able to see through each amassing force in the city and was able to determine their allegiance based on the spectral trails they carelessly emanated as they moved about like mindless beasts.

The lower ranks of Satan's army was comprised mostly of 10-foot-tall horned beasts who left behind greenish trails of spectral matter generated by the bloated green sacs they carried in their chests. They were supported by dark monks, recently resurrected servants of the church of Satan. These half-rotten blasphemers were draped in ancient tattered rags that could barely hide the stench of their corroded souls even as they stood miles away. The decades they spent in hell has transformed their body, turning their fingertips into claws that extended several meters past their unnaturally mutilated arms and their faces into contorted vortexes that acted as personalized portals into hell itself. Perhaps their tightly-knit concentration magnified the unholy energies that set them apart from the other creatures in this city, but that was a subject I preferred to consider much later. They drew their power from a series of gateways that acted like conduits that channeled the powers of hell into the willing bodies waiting for them in this world. Using the chaos surrounding them as a source of power, these dark monks were able to generate large grounded sigils that summoned more of hell's minions with each passing second. I could barely make out the unique energies that were emanating from the dozens of creatures they recently summoned, but I could tell from the way these flying creatures that these were none other than the pesky imps I was taught about during my training days in the Brotherhood another lifetime ago. I would surely deal with these later once I put a halt to those dark monks' summoning. Arch-demons towered far above the rest boasting leathery wings that served no other purpose than to act as symbols of their tenure under their lord's command. They wielded an assortment of spear-like great-axes crafted from the tormented souls of the damned who were still screaming in pain at the fiery aura emanating from the cursed weapons. Cyclones of evil spirits all empowered by the great fallen angel competed against the Legions of the Dead for supremacy over the quickly rising numbers of the deceased.

Zobek's society was usually much more subtle about their activities, preferring to hide behind the shadows that they are so enamoured by. However it would seem as though their powers of concealment have done nothing but limit their innate connection to the necrotic energies produced by natural death. What better time to harvest the power of the freshly dead than in a war? Now they no longer had the need to conceal themselves from human eyes and revealed their true natures. Armies of mindless undead charged about consuming the flesh of the living no matter the source. Hordes of necromancers led squadrons of undead who crawled from the fires of crashed cars, burning buildings, morgues, and burial grounds. As useful as necromancers were, they no longer filled the majority of Zobek's higher ranks. That honor belonged to the reanimated generals who were encased in armors similar to the one I stole from Zobek's Lieutenant after swiftly bringing him to his demise. Equipped with the intelligence they held in life, these warriors from different eras were a priceless commodity for the Lord of the Dead. Though they were able to keep the memories they held in life, their souls were nevertheless bound to the Lord of the Dead. Zobek certainly exploited this condition which allowed him to rule at the top of his organization's hierarchy. Because of the sheer number of these resurrected schemers, Zobek was able to rule with relative ease while keeping his armies well-tended to. That however, was not what worried me the most about the army of the dead. Given enough time Zobek's sorcerers will be able to summon Reapers, the corporeal manifestations of death itself, into the fray. Perhaps the most dangerous of the Lord of the Dead's army, these malevolent spirits could not be harmed through conventional means, and required mystical equipment such as those used by the Brotherhood of Light centuries ago. Direct combat was not recommended, for even a single touch from these dangerous foes would tear one's soul asunder, instantly ripping it away from one's body and into the stomachs of these impatient predators. Based on the sheer variety of the necromancers' incorporeal summons, the Reapers would soon appear within the next two hours.

The third army, which steadily increased at a rate far faster than the previous two, was comprised of Dracula's minions. These skinless malformed abominations were formed from the carcasses of the long dead creatures unfortunate enough to die while within my father's cursed abode. Broken bodies of lycans, vampires, and harpies have fused together into monstrous shapes that resembled an insect's dismembered appendages. Raging rivers of blood have spread throughout the city, converting the modern vistas that characterized this city into a sinister reflection of my father's abode. I could see the blood steadily reforming itself into my father's castle, with the cathedral he first awoke from as its central nexus. The blood seeped through every crack of every building, reforming thick walls of concrete into stone gargoyles composed of blood and stone. In the place of streetlights were tendrils of fused muscle strands that extended far from the hardened blood clots that now formed the streets and buildings of the corrupted regions. Whirlpools from the disgusting soup of the once living spawned even more monsters, each more grotesque than the last. A brief glimpse revealed what I thought were toothy mandibles situated at the mouth of these sanguine vortexes. I wasn't sure of the sight, but I did not wish to return my gaze upon them. I knew that my father was the source of these creatures, and as tempting as it may be to attack him while he wastes his efforts fighting against the Lord of the Dead, it would not help me whittle down the numbers of the other armies. My father has regained his power and what does he do with it? He sets it loose, forgetting about the rest of the city and the people who have made it their home. He continues with his futile quest for recognition in the face of a world he no longer belongs to.

Other stragglers comprised of Guido Szandor's church struggled to survive against the three armies. At first these people took safety in their numbers, using their initial numerical advantage by blasting Satan's demons apart. Eventually their misguided actions led to their ruin. Though they were certainly boosted by the fallen angel's power, they only existed as fodder that quickly lost their threat the more each army grew. This only increased the competition between the three armies for the new resources they could consume. The people lost their composure and their overconfidence was aptly replaced by the fear that possessed them early on. Sadly this only made it easier for each of the three armies to mentally dominate and convert them into more recruits. The satanic origin of their powers only increased the pull of the devil's armies on them. They were doomed from the moment they took upon the false prophet's creed. I shook my head at the lengths these people were pushed to because of my ill-judgment.

The best that I can do is to evacuate as many people as I possibly can. This is a task that I cannot undertake on my lonesome, but as much as I wish to have the luxury of support, there is nothing I can do but soldier on. It is true that the world has moved on from the age of gods and monsters. In doing so, they have made themselves vulnerable to these ancient threats. No gun or array of modern weaponry will do a damned thing to these creatures. Bullets will simply pass through the incorporeal flesh of evil spirits. Rockets will only bounce off of the hardened carapaces of hell's chosen. Grenades will do no harm to the bodies of the already dead. Despite their best efforts, these people are helpless to fight. Even so, I must try.

I transformed my body into a cloud of bats and rushed towards the stranded ambulances. I was but an ant compared to the three armies, but I could at least clear the way in order to let more people escape this insanity. For the purposes of combat, the enchanted metals of the dimensional blade Masamune was invaluable against the armored flesh of Satan's armies. Gained from the defeated soul of Zobek's Lieutenant, this sword can easily cleave its way through the hardest of earthly materials, a useful effect produced by the blade's ability to bypass the material realm. Tenacious as Satan's legions may be, their bodies are subject to the physical laws of the earthly realm that they are currently bound in. Their towering generals could do little against the might of this enchanted blade and were quickly dismembered and crippled into limbless stubs that helplessly flailed into the air once I was done with them. Coupled with my centuries of experience with the art of the sword and the inhuman speed granted by my vampiric heritage, I was able to challenge most of these beasts with ease. I disabled these beasts with surgical precision by carving them away into uselessness before their regenerative functions came into effect, then suspended them in eternal agony by switching to my Crissaegrim. I forged this blade many centuries ago with the intention of ending my father's life forever. Regrettably, the Crissaegrim was unable to fulfill this purpose since it was only created from a fragment of the only weapon that could permanently kill him. In what would be its last use before this horrible night, I struck the blade into his heart, putting him into a long slumber that lasted for five centuries until this fateful night. Equipped with the Vampire Killer's broken stake and the remains of the Glaciem rapier and Igneas great-sword, the Crissaegrim inherited each weapon's innate qualities. From the Vampire Killer it retained the ability to suspend monsters in a state of neverending agony. From the Glaciem rapier, the blade gained the ability to project icy winds of void energy which served to freeze enemies on touch while sucking their life force to replenish my wounds. Finally, the inclusion of the Igneas great-sword further enhanced the Crissaegrim's cutting power by superheating the blade with soul-consuming hellfire. I was able to switch the Crissaegrim's functions at will and for many centuries, I used this sword as my primary weapon of choice against the forces of darkness. The blade was the perfect counter for most creatures of the night, and was the perfect way to harm the incorporeal foes that the Masamune could not touch.

I fought defiantly against the maelstrom of creatures that encroached upon the masses of the uninvolved. Using my earlier surveillance of the city, I was able to develop several escape routes that allowed these people to escape. Once they saw that I was fighting to protect them, most were willing to oblige upon my directions. Hours passed and my efforts seemed to be going nowhere, but by the time my father had finished with his duel against Zobek, I had managed to clear enough routes to free close to a hundred people. I found it strange how no demons were able to breach the encampments that I led the people to, but soon I was able to discover how this was made possible. While waging my small crusade, I chanced upon an energy I had not felt for a long time. I turned and saw a man in a leathery green overcoat, equipped with my father's old relics and carrying the same Combat Cross wielded by an old ally who had been a close friend and worthy adversary of my father's during our many encounters. Based on the holy aura surrounding this man, I was easily able to infer that he was a late descendant of the famed Belmont clan that my son sired. It pleased me to see that he shared my son's eyes. I withdrew both of my swords, sending them back into the pocket dimension from which I summoned them from, and walked towards the warrior. He did not seem threatening, and even seemed excited to meet me.

"So I finally meet the legendary warrior that has aided mankind for centuries."

"How could you be sure it was me?"

"I was standing a few buildings away when I saw the Dragon stab you with his sword and ripped off your helmet."

"Then surely you must have seen him spare me. Why did you never think to attack?"

"To be honest I questioned why he of all people would spare you, but after seeing your efforts to protect so many, I was convinced of your identity. Of course your famed sword Crissaegrim also made the task of recognizing you much easier."

"I assume you are responsible for guiding the people to safety."

"You are correct. As soon as I was certain of who you were, I asked my men to relocate and watch over the routes you were taking."

"How were they able to fight back against the monsters overrunning this city?"

"We've prepared for something like this for decades. Each cathedral in the city has enough silver and holy water stockpiled to last us for months. Our organization has watched over this city since the people started colonizing Dracula's cursed soil, so we know every possible route leading out of it."

"So the Brotherhood of Light still lives."

He sheathed his sacred weapon to his side and offered his hand, a well-known gesture of good will developed in the past century.

"I am Victor. Victor Belmont. Commander of the Brotherhood of Light. Protector of humanity…and the last of my illustrious bloodline. It is a pleasure to be fighting alongside you."

I did the same and shook his hand, pleasantly delighted in the ally and descendant that I had the honor of fighting beside.

"The pleasure's all mine. I am Alucard."

Our pleasantries then came to an abrupt end when Victor's phone started to ring. I did not need my enhanced hearing to predict what was going to be said.

"Sorry to ruin your bonding time, boys, but there's this large demon heading your way."

"We can see that. Focus on the civilians. We'll take care of it."

Victor discarded his phone in routine fashion and the both of us turned to the tremor-inducing demon that approached us. He readied his Combat Cross and wielded it with an exposed right arm wearing nothing but a black leather glove. I thought the practice reckless, but it reminded me of my son's fondness of wearing leather attire on his right arm while using an armored left arm for blocking strikes. If I remembered correctly, it allowed him to increase his mobility when cracking his weapon while adding a few much needed tweaks to the Brotherhood's antiquated whip techniques.

I summoned the Masamune and the both of us went on our way.


	19. Abaddon the Destroyer

Long ago there was an angel named Abaddon, whose beauty and rank was known all throughout the kingdom of heaven. He once possessed majestic wings befitting of the highest order of seraphim. He never paid much heed to these, but he was nevertheless thankful for the gift that the received. In return for his humility, God only increased His favor over him, and rewarded him with a respectable position in heaven's magnificent choirs. When Lucifer, the greatest of the angels, caught wind of this, he was enraged over how someone he considered to be lesser was receiving so much attention. While plotting his rebellion against God's supremacy over all creation, Lucifer made sure to confer with Abaddon in the hopes of pulling all of God's favorites over to his side. Abaddon disagreed with Lucifer, but decided to hold his silence regarding the planned uprising. Seeing the plan as nothing more than a joke, the seraphim resolved to think nothing more of it, but not before rebuking his heavenly sibling for even conceiving such heresy. It wasn't until Lucifer had earned the support of a sizeable fraction of heaven's population that Abaddon finally came to the realization about the seriousness of his brother's plan, and how it threatened the sacred order that governed everything that he stood for. He resolved to speak with God in order to inform Him of Lucifer's insurgence but by then, it was too late. God in His omniscience knew about Lucifer's uprising all along, and used it as a test to see which of the angels' loyalty was truly genuine. Everyone is privy to some version of the story one way or another, but all these versions share similar conclusions about the aftermath of Lucifer's revolt. Lucifer, who lost his name, rank and title, was known thenceforth as Satan, the devil and the great deceiver, and was sent to hell along with the followers that he gained. Unfortunately, this also included Abaddon who in his failure to take immediate heed to his brother's plan, inadvertently enabled Lucifer's plan to go as far as it did.

Abaddon was punished by having his wings and his beauty taken away along with his power to speak. For the rest of his days, Abaddon would never be able to express a thought through the privilege of speech. Never again could he make the mistake of enabling heresy for the rest of his eternal life. Where there once was a beautiful voice that sang in heaven's choirs, there now was a guttural soul-piercing roar that echoed in the dark columns supporting the pits of hell. After experiencing the injustice that had befallen him, Abaddon channeled his filial piety into blind rage and focused the remains of his loyalty to serving the fallen Lucifer's cause. His body would grow sickly and more twisted with each passing hour that he spent in the intrinsic desolation of the lake of fire. Now he no longer resembled an angel, and was known from then on as a demon along with his fallen brothers and sisters. Abaddon's great hatred and ceaseless rage over the injustice of his situation lent itself to his great size, his jagged malformed teeth, his sickly green eyes, the rows of sharpened teeth and bone that protruded from his thin elongated limbs, and the sharpened scythe-like talons that he created by desecrating his previously humanoid hands. Now only tools of death and destruction remained—a bone-armored shell that fundamentally opposed everything he used to be. In a cruel twist, the massive curved horns that extended from his head began to resemble the bones of the wings that were taken from him. An appropriate punishment for someone who in the past paid no heed to those envied appendages. The translucent green sac of souls that protruded from his chest propelled him to further acts of madness, earning him the title of "Destroyer." His demonic body, which now towered above the rest of hell's children allowed him to terrorize the hearts of his fellow siblings, who all knew about Abaddon's sad fate. Out of the rest of them, Abaddon was not one who deserved to be in the maddening pits, but he was punished all the same. No one could blame the Destroyer's unstoppable madness, and no one could question his authority when he sent hordes upon hordes of them into certain death like locusts charging into a blaze of fire. His roar terrified them all, for they knew that it not only contained the rage that they all shared against God and all creation for their banishment into the abyss, but it also reminded them of the pain, confusion, and sadness that they no longer had the power to overcome. For their sins they were exiled from heaven. From their exposure in hell, they were driven mad. For eons they fought day and night against heaven's armies in order to slow down their inevitable extinction.

When Abaddon learned about my father's return, he was eager to face the new challenge. From my father, he found a foe that was cursed with the same fate despite his once unwavering loyalty to God. He peered into my father's twisted soul while he slept and saw a tortured creature darker and more terrible than he. Now, with the rampant energies tearing the fabric of reality itself, Abaddon was free to run out of his cage with the support of his own army. He sought to challenge my father not only because of his bestial urge to conquer a powerful foe, but because of the possibility of dying in combat. In his mind, there was no doubt that only the Prince of Darkness could answer the cold yearning of his heart. No one else could take his life; he would not let them. Who better to end his misery than someone who truly understood his own torment? In all my travels and all the lifetimes that I lived, I never could have guessed that I would ever encounter a soul as tortured as my own father. Regardless of his desires, I could not let him continue to exist. Driven by his fading sanity, Abaddon sent as much of his army to fight against my father's own. The swarm of flightless locusts fought against the endlessly regenerating masses of my father's army. They may have had the advantage in size and raw power, but they were no match against the combined efforts of Dracula's army. Scores of gargoyles forcibly tore the armored plates that protected Abaddon's demons while vampires plunged their blades into the glowing green chest sacs that acted as a blatant weak spot. The demonic blasts, emerald fires and sharpened claws of the locusts were met with endless clouds of stone axes, spears, and arrows formed from the crude weaponry of the liquid fortress. Squadrons of lycans mounted on their wargs drove spears crafted from the transformed bodies of skeleton warriors while fleets of gargoyles and harpies supplied aerial support. The castle drew from the broken memories of these creatures and created bodies that in time grew to resemble the very monsters that inspired them. Meanwhile the rivers of blood continued to recruit the corpses of the newly dead and injured. All that the castle required were minor lacerations that gave it the pull that it needed to possess the demons. After hours of ceaseless battles, even Abaddon's legion was powerless against the steady conversion of Wygol city. Dracula and his castle were reclaiming the territory he had claimed five centuries ago, to the point where the combined might of the armies of hell and the society of the dead could do nothing but slow the process.

Victor and I struggled against the fearsome general who stopped at nothing to reach my father. At first he was confused when he saw me, since I shared the same energy as my father, even if I was far weaker. He must have assumed that his intended foe was still weak from centuries of sleep. He would not have been mistaken if he was able to launch his assault just hours before our encounter. Ever since my father emerged from his ruby-tinted smoke hours prior to silence the dark priest, I noticed a change in him that ran far deeper than just his actions. It was an immense surge of power, the likes of which I last felt all those centuries ago when we both agreed to suspend him in a state of slumber using the Crissaegrim. It dwarfed Zobek's own amassed power and this was no more apparent than the Lord of the Dead's helplessness against my father and his re-emerging army. If they were still fighting right now, it was likely because my father wanted to savor the sorcerer's demise.

Abaddon quickly realized his mistake and started marching to my father's location, seeing that the shockwaves of unholy energies unleashed near Zobek's tower were enough to solve the mystery of Dracula's current whereabouts. Victor and I did not give the Destroyer his chance to reach my father and exposed him to an onslaught of our most dangerous techniques. I was surprised at Abaddon's skill and dexterity despite his size when he was able to repeatedly parry the Masamune's blows by striking at the sides of the blade. It was as if he had been studying my movements against his enforcers, and could now see through my technique. I found myself barely able to anticipate his berserk yet precise movements because of this, and had Victor not been around to help me, I would have found myself quickly overwhelmed by the towering brute. I weaved around his scythe-like appendages and distracted him while Victor relentlessly attacked using his assortment of holy weaponry. Victor nearly fell victim to the creature's coordinated assaults a few times, and quickly learned his lesson by activating a holy shield around him at all times. This transparent barrier made out of holy energy protected its user from all forms of harm while reflecting the force applied onto it to the oppressor. The only downside to this safeguard was that it tended to fizzle out once a certain threshold had been crossed. Usually this spherical aegis was crafted by unleashing a burst of light magic and combining it with the spark created from shattering a holy water flask. These flasks reacted with explosive force against creatures of the night, and became more potent the more evil the creature. Victor was very liberal with using these artifacts, clearly having learned of the arcane technique that supplied the user with limitless amounts of holy artifacts at his will's notice. What I found strange with his technique was that he neither possessed light nor shadow medallions and yet he was able to manifest these magical energies.

With his holy water flasks he was able to create extremely durable holy shields. With his spectral wings and perfectly timed blocks, he was able to unleash blinding flashes generated by light energy that allowed him to get away and to distract our opponent. With his Dark Gauntlet and Cyclone Boots, he was able to exploit the artifacts' strength and speed to their absolute limit to the point of being able to thrust punch the monster into a nearby building, smashing the Destroyer's toothy mandibles and crushing the concrete edifice in the process. Finally with his Combat Cross, he was able to send waves of holy fire that were potent enough to scorch the Destroyer's hellfire-tested epidermis. These were advanced techniques that required fully pieced Light and Shadow Medallions, and yet the warrior was able to fight spectacularly without them. I was glad that I never had to face against this fearsome warrior, who certainly posed enough of a threat to go head to head against Abaddon the Destroyer himself. Victor and I alternated in our role for our combined strategy, each circling the monster to methodically shatter his armor and weaken it. Victor continued to launch grenades of holy water while I used the Masamune and Igneas to tear away large portions of the demon's exoskeleton. We stuck close by, waiting for that subtle twitch in his left leg before he struck with his left scythe-arm. Right as he launched his attack, we both backed off. Victor used the Seraph Shoulders to make an agile dodge and I dashed away using my vampiric speed. I then activated the Glaciem and used its icy power to freeze the Destroyer's weapon in place. Victor repeatedly struck the scythe, which after a couple of attempts showed signs of extreme wear, until it finally shattered and stripped the demon of one of its deadly limbs. It would not surrender, however, and stabbed its tail into the ground while it breathed noxious gases in preparation for its emerald flames. I was ill-fated enough to be in his sights when he unleashed his deadly energies, and had it not been for the Glaciem's ability to heal my wounds, I would have been badly singed by the unholy fires that he launched from his abominable mouth. Victor was fortunate in having put up a holy shield when Abaddon's tail extended past the concrete it was embedded in and attempted to impale him.

The bony tail-blade struck two times. The first harmlessly bounced off the shield and sent a surge of pain up the Destroyer's spine. This caused it to cease its fire-breathing for a short moment but came at the cost of compromising Victor's holy shield. The second strike was far deadlier because of this, and would have succeeded in impaling Victor had he failed to dodge at that critical moment. He gasped in anxiety then quickly regained his composure before activating his shield again and carrying on. I used this opportunity to sprout the dark feathery wings that I gained from partaking from the Daemon Lord's blood the night I was reborn a vampire. Taking advantage of the height I gained through flight, I summoned the Masamune in this instant and struck at the hulking monstrosity, which retaliated by blocking me with its shattered scythe, sacrificing it so that he would not lose the use of his remaining arm. He screamed in pain, giving Victor the chance to wrap his whip around the creature's neck, momentarily immobilizing it. I seized the opening and launched a wave of bats summoned from my own shadowy essence into its open mouth to further choke the creature and tear it from within. With the Masamune still in hand, I plunged the abyssal sword's dimension-cutting metal into the Destroyer's neck, causing it to collapse into the ground. The tremor this induced collapsed the concrete roadway that we were fighting under. In that moment, hailstorms of debris and fountains of mixed sewage and pipe water splashed around the crater where the Destroyer rested. Victor and I heaved a sigh of relief at our small victory.

Moments after returning to the Brotherhood rendezvous point, we both felt another sizeable series of tremors originating from the crater we had left the Destroyer's body in. We ran to the scene but saw no remains other than a huge underground tunnel created out of melted concrete. It was heading towards Zobek's tower. Having found his goal, we were certain that Abaddon wasn't going to pay any more attention to the fleeing citizens. We came back to the cheers from the Brotherhood and some of the citizens who saw the spectacle. Victor discussed the rest of our evacuation plans before retreating for a short rendezvous with his friend, Sonia, who he briefly introduced prior to being dragged away like a leashed puppy. Thoughts of my beloved Sypha crossed my mind for a moment, bringing another source of respite while I rested. I looked around and saw the delighted looks of confusion from the adults who were as perplexed as the children at seeing a joint collaboration between a true warrior of light and a creature of the night. Based on what they had experienced hours prior, there should have been no way someone of my heritage would even consider saving their lives. I admit that it brought me some semblance of pride to prove them wrong. Notwithstanding our triumph, our work was not yet complete, and there would be many more battles before everyone could truly be safe.


	20. The Lord of the Dead

The Lord of Death stood before me with a gigantic scythe whirling around him like a snake waiting to uncoil. I could see it now. The anger that he felt at his betrayal, as if he was expecting me to play by his rules this whole time. What a fool he was. The centuries must have lulled him into a false sense of security and after lifetimes of free reign over the world of man, he now had the audacity to behave like a belligerent child. Now my role in his plan was complete, and I stood as the only obstacle to his deranged scheming. I have waited centuries for this moment. Time was my friend, and after giving it years of my undying servitude, it has finally paid me back its dues. Zobek would meet his end, and I would have my vengeance.

His fingers nervously twitched around the handles of his enchanted weapon, causing the flexible bone matter comprising the whip-like sickle to sway back and forth in an enticing dance. Though his jawless skull carried no expression, I could sense that he was not so eager to face me the moment I stepped out of my smoke. In his mind, he still had complete control over the situation, but in his heart I could sense his fear at being no match for me after all. His power may have grown in my great absence, but it was not enough. I channeled my anger into the flames of chaos, which fiercely roared as the blaze began to cover my forearms. The smoldering heat crackled with the authority of an endless dawn over the night, its radiant incandescence reflecting into the empty sockets of the skeletal Lord's eyes. At this point, I had no more need to fight him directly and could destroy him with but a swipe of an arm, but I wanted to savor his death for as long as I could. He would pay. For plunging me into an eternity of blood, he would pay. I thought that the pressure released by my re-emergence from the depths of my mind would have been enough to warrant a surrender, but I was proven wrong when Zobek insisted on his struggle. His almost valiant attempt made me wonder whether he did so out of honor, or if he was simply so delusional that he could not fathom his own defeat at my hands. No matter the cause, it only made the charade of my confrontation all much more entertaining.

"Your soul is MINE, Gabriel."

I laughed at his brilliantly deluded façade of bravado.

"We'll see, _old friend_. We'll see."

I dashed forward to his left side, paying close attention to the tendrils of shadow matter that his entire body was comprised of. His aura of necrotic energies nearly rivaled that of my own, and twisted the rest of his body into a towering monstrosity that started the legend of the grim reaper. He tried to swipe at me with his left claw, an evident attempt to strike my torso and steal my soul. He thought that by doing so he could prematurely end our little dance. He was sadly mistaken. With my arms still engulfed in the flames of chaos I caught his hand and twisted his arm. The flames were hungry for their prey and were quick to encapsulate the Lord of the Dead for but a moment. He screamed in pain, feeling the rampaging fires steadily devouring his rotten soul. He recoiled and cast a barrier of necrotic energy to dispel the inferno seeking to consume his very essence.

"What's the matter, _old friend_? Afraid of a little fire?"

"You will not ridicule me, Gabriel. Not when this is over."

He uncoiled his twirling sickle and with it unleashed a barrage of necrotic energies that whizzed through the air and created deafening thunderstorms that sought after me. The bolts of green lightning that he unleashed crackled with sustained bursts that instantly corroded everything it touched. Recalling my encounter with Carmilla, I summoned the Void Sword and used it to deflect the bolts away from myself and into any other surface I could find. Our arena began to narrow as the age-old stones that comprised Zobek's immortal tower disintegrated into dust as if the materials finally paid their debt to time. Each searing bolt ripped through the darkness and sent momentary flashes of light bright enough to illuminate the night sky for but a moment. The thunder that accompanied it reverberated along the stony towers that congested the city and shattered the transparent substances reflecting our confrontation. Zobek continued his onslaught until only a jagged narrow strip remained and the rest of the collapsed floor led to a vortex of souls that the Lord of the Dead spent decades collecting. His focus was unbroken, and he continued to pursue me as I steadily countered his blows. Once he had cornered me into a nearby pit he transported himself behind me and unleashed an emerald storm of energies that degenerated the tower and its surrounding peers. I managed to escape the spherical blast by teleporting a few miles away, seeing the destruction that it wrought at the safety of another tower. Zobek fell into the swirling well of souls that his tower had been collecting and with it gained a steep upsurge in power. He absorbed every last essence that existed there and unleashed another spherical blast of energy that consumed the next few miles and unearthed the stony ground where an endless array of familiar sigils suddenly appeared. Armies of the incorporeal Reapers spawned from the symbols and charged straight at me while the Lord of the Dead continued to unleash waves of death and miasma that began to spread through the city. Towers collapsed and the stony paths that paved the roads reverted back into the soil that they were destined to become after thousands of years had passed. These energies temporarily halted the spread of my castle's blood that sought to reclaim this cursed territory by turning them into dust before they could spread any further. The armies of hell were near helpless against these as well. I ordered my forces to take care of the Reapers while I approached their deranged master. I transported myself a few feet from Zobek and attempted to stab him with my sword when he turned and parried my attempt with his gigantic scythe. We kept at it for several bouts, the sparks of our voracious blades tearing tiny holes in the darkness. We continued to clash like this until enough of Zobek's minions had reached us.

The legions of the undead were no match for my growing army, which after a few hours had assimilated most of their corporeal comrades. The spirits, however, were more problematic since the weapons of the cursed could only be so effective against the ghostly flesh of the unholy. Nevertheless, the realm of the dead held no real authority over the throngs of the immortal despite their strength against the living. I consumed many of these ghosts using the power of my sword in order to heal my wounds and urged my troops to hold them off. The battalion of the immortals fought against the society of the dead until both reached a stalemate that could only be tipped by the defeat of each army's leader. The legions of hell continued to spread all the while. This drew my attention as well as Zobek's but as of present we were too preoccupied with our own affairs to pay much heed to this omen. The scrounging followers of the third acolyte, however, had already been reduced to the status of fuel at this point. Despite their ability to channel mighty Lucifer's power, these lowly novices were quickly overwhelmed by the growing numbers of the amassing sides. Possessed by arrogance or perhaps deluded into thinking he still had the upper hand, Zobek attempted to bargain with me.

"Now is your final chance, Gabriel. Surrender your armies now or I will be forced to destroy you and that creature you call a son."

I could no longer hold back my own laughter after hearing his threat. Zobek retaliated by unleashing more of his undead servants from the sigils that he implanted.

"Come, my children. Come eat."

The sad creatures that emerged from the necrotic symbols resembled corrupted shells of humans and beasts alike. They shuffled about in packs for a few seconds before the Lord of the Dead restored their ability to run and claw their way into my location. Using my whip I was able to dismember hundreds of these cadavers with but a single swipe, but this was not enough to pacify their single remaining desire. Once they recovered from their lengthy free fall in the air, the remaining pieces of the undead desperately tried to reach me. Thinking that this was enough to distract me, the Lord of the Dead once again transported himself behind me, using his whip-like scythe to get me from a distance. I continuously dodged five of his slashes while dispatching the living corpses with my sword and then used the void energies inherent to the blade to cast a whirlwind that instantly froze the flesh that came upon the ghastly gales. Zobek's scythe was no exception to this despite its unique architecture. The weapon's head was the first to fall to the frostbite followed by the interlocked spines that extended all the way to the weapon's handles. In order to prevent the destruction of his weapon, Zobek withdrew and summoned more of his troops into the fray.

"Take his flesh. I'll take his soul!"

I moved about by transforming my body into mist. Using the Primordial Void gem I found encased in the castle golem's eye, I was able to channel void energies into the particles that composed my smoky form. This allowed me to zip through dozens of corpses unharmed while freezing them to the touch with my very presence. Zobek was unable to harm me while I was in this form, for there was nothing to touch but a cloud of freezing smoke. Before there was any real time for the corpses to thaw out, I summoned my Shadow Whip and shattered them into pieces too small to warrant any threat against me. I was bursting with laughter at this point, for this was all just too amusing. The infuriated Lord of the Dead sent hundreds upon hundreds of troops at me—hundreds of useless toys that were too weak to survive the glancing blows from my violent melee against their master. Bodies continued to pile, only to be absorbed by my castle or reused by the necromancers scattered about the city. Zobek and I continued our dance until we could no longer see the ground before us, and we were stepping upon mounds of unclaimed bodies while we feverishly fought against one another. One of such bodies included one of Lucifer's wounded generals.

As we fought, Zobek and I could hear this creature's approach with every trembling quake that echoed through the sewer tunnels. At first, we were so engrossed in our spat that these approaching sounds were of no consequence, but eventually they became too great to ignore. The tremors grew louder and more frequent until a geyser of green flames burst through the ground and scorched the inhabitants of a nearby tower. The torrent of flame continued until the creature finally jumped out of its hole and proceeded to join in on our fun. This interfering bastard had the audacity to cut in without my permission, and so I made sure to personally dismember the rest of its limbs until nothing but its head and upper torso remained. It screamed in agony but this was not how it was going to die. Zobek carried the same sentiments as I did and slashed away at its soul while still relentlessly engaging in our melee. Before long, only half of the creature's face remained while the rest of its torso was scorched, frozen, sliced and beaten to the point where it could no longer heal. With no more of its armor to protect it, I grasped onto the creature's green beating heart and stabbed it with my sword, making sure that its soul could never again return in hell or in this Earth.

Despite my expectations over this encounter, it delighted me to see Zobek's own efforts to fight against his own destiny. As much as I resented him, Zobek displayed his prowess in combat in ways I never would have thought a coward could provide. He knew his own life was on the line, and there was nothing that the undead wanted to protect more than their restored lives. This was made no more apparent than his desperate attempts to prolong his life for as much as he could, even knowing exactly how it was going to end.

I returned each of Zobek's heavy strikes using my sword, only opting to use my whip to cleave away at the gathering masses around me and my flaming claws to burn their remains. Zobek knew that I was merely playing around at this point, and could have finished him off hours earlier. This did not stop him from fighting with everything that he had, and unleashing waves after waves of energy that utterly demolished several miles of my reclaimed property. His supply of souls were nowhere close to running out, but he knew that his source of power could not keep him away from his defeat. Thunder clouds billowed and crashed with the fury of an angry god, until finally their echoes ceased. In my grasp was the cracked jawless skull of the Lord of the Dead.

I summoned the bright flames of chaos to lay waste to the shadow matter composing his body, levitated up to the heights of the tallest tower I could see, then threw him with such force that his sweltering body plummeted through the ground like a meteor plucked from the night sky. Unable to sustain his body any longer, Zobek reverted back into his human form. Not willing to take the chance of him escaping, I flew towards him as plumes of burning darkness started burst from his body and prepared to stab him with my sword. In a final attempt, Zobek took out the Vampire Killer just as I had anticipated and tried to stake me with its shattered handle. Ultimately my sword's reach overcame that of the Vampire Killer's and I was able to land my blow right through the bastard's heart as we crashed into the ground. I could feel the crunch of dozens of bodies beneath me cracking when we landed and could see the crater that was generated by our impact.

I took a look at Zobek's body and saw that it was now an unrecognizable wreck. The fused magics of void and chaos expended his soul in such spectacular fashion that his body followed suit and froze over into a crystalline statue. The blaze continued to boil at him even as he froze and his centuries of life came to a quick and painful end. I thought I heard a laugh from him as I pulled out my sword and shattered him into thousands of tiny pieces. I stood silent to appreciate the moment, knowing that my one true foe had finally met his demise. I picked up the Vampire Killer from the crater and gazed upon the burning cross I held in my hand. Now I had the means to attain my own death, and after centuries of suffering, I was more than ready to face oblivion.

I transported myself into the roof of a nearby tower and saw that my victory had tipped the balance of the war in my favor. Now Zobek's former troops were starting to flee in fear. In spite of this, the gates of hell were still open and after Zobek's death, I could feel a trembling in the ground far greater than anything I had ever experienced. A grand sigil emerged from the ground in a stone tower that dwarfed all the rest. More structures came along with it in twisting shapes that resembled no earthly structure that I had ever seen. The sky, which was already on the cusp of dawn took upon a reddish hue that quickly spread its territory well beyond the horizon. The storms of untimely death may have ceased, but in their place emerged deadly tempests that swept away the corpses of the dark priest's followers and then ignited with hellfire. I smelled the thick presence of fire and brimstone and in this moment I learned that hell had finally re-emerged from the depths of obscurity and into the rotting pit of this Earth. I heard an all too familiar laugh that echoed through the brief moments of darkness that flashed as tempests of fire ravaged the city's shambling remains. Mighty Lucifer had returned.


	21. The Twisting Tower

Thick billows of dust and ashes accentuated the despair befalling the world of man. Tempests of fire and smoke swept through the land as though God Himself was taking back all that He created. Vines crafted from shadow matter choked the towers like greedy parasites until the stone structures could no longer hold their composure. Chunks of debris flew like cannonballs, demolishing other structures and injuring the warring triad of armies who were struggling to stay alive. Soulless bodies and limbs began converging towards one another until the moving pile of lifeless flesh began to take its form. This organism of dead bodies became the envy of all the necromancers who had managed to survive thus far. They could sense the raw matter that they could harvest from this creature, but were unable to due to a more powerful binding force giving the substance life. Carpets of bodies spread throughout different species writhed in agony. Among these were poor saps who were still on the verge of death. Barred from the gates of heaven and openly admitted right through the gates of hell, these multitudes of souls felt every forceful stitch of flesh binding together, every painful second of the endless moments before their "deaths" and every excruciating detail about the damnation that awaited them their whole lives. Geysers of hellfire erupted from the cracks in the ground where demons escaped their cursed bonds, hot enough to scorch the unwilling souls that continued to spread through each paved road, but not enough that these same essences are lost to oblivion.

Chains of shadow matter sewed these writhing masses of suffering flesh in a rich tapestry of agony personified. These misshapen bodies soon arose from the ground in which they were bound and started crawling up each surface much in the same way my castle's blood sought to convert the city into itself. From what I could see, the highest concentration could be found in the twisting tower where Lucifer must have been lying in wait. I smirked after realizing what he was trying to recreate.

Whatever remained of the mutilated carcasses spreading through the city clawed at everything that came near whether friend or foe. Willed by a shared hatred for everything around them, these fused limbs hurled corrosive masses of pure malice in globules of opalescent pus that sizzled with the intensity of the flames that burned them alive. Rivers of blood clasped from the fleshy wall linings flowed into streams which then fed my castle's insatiable appetite, thus starting a seething rivalry between Satan's dimension and my own. The combined wails of the damned were barely muffled by the swirling tempests of hellfire that continued to ravage the human remains of the city. Meanwhile tendrils of the castle's blood and the shadowy vines that grew from hell's gardens mixed into each other, each fighting for control and neither willing to give way.

I could see that the brutal change in landscape favored hell's minions, whose armor plates protected them from all sorts of harm at the cost of their mobility. Though my troops' advantages came in their sheer variety, certain strains were clearly not suited for combat in these conditions. Wargs were especially vulnerable to the demented claws sprouting out of the ground like wildfire, for their unprotected flesh tough as it was could not withstand sustained assaults from such sources. This left the lycans without their mounts and although they were some of the best suited troops in the previously paved roadways, they were now useless against the sheer surfaces that were taken over by hell's natural order. My castle now had to focus less on resurrecting my troops and more on drowning out as much of these meddlesome corpses as it could and reforming the stony roads that once dignified my abode.

I stared at the especially tall structure where Lucifer must have been watching. Crafted after the infamous tower that divided the world, Lucifer's pedestal howled with thousands upon thousands of unrecognizable voices that now only sought to die. From my distance I could not tell whether they were crying or chanting in a series of languages that I thought had long ago perished. Perhaps it was a combination of both. Much like the stories of old, the tower dwarfed every earthly structure with an ever-growing height that sought to reach the heavens. Built using the defaced bodies of original structure's builders, the thorny organism linked every single one of the lives it claimed as it wriggled like a bed of worms gasping for air.

I transported myself into the tower's peak and within moments of arriving, I was greeted by the first of the fallen angels. I saw his smug expression and repaid him with my own, for I could not suppress my own amusement. We stood face to face like monarchs discussing the state of their nations while thousands fought in their name.

"Gabriel. I must thank you for your role in welcoming me back. Had it not been for your…assistance, you and I would never have met under such circumstances."

"How are you here? I thought I already foiled your little ritual."

He sneered.

"There is no doubt in my mind that you could have, but in trying to fight against my acolytes you've only succeeded in hastening my inevitable return."

He started pacing about using occasional bouts of gestures. Unlike many of the other foes I faced, Lucifer relied more on his cunning rather than his prowess in combat. Though our last confrontation convinced me of his power, his physical might was overshadowed by his keen use of his intellect. He spoke with an elegant charm that subtly echoed with a hint of the devious malice that he was well-known for in every realm.

"Didn't you listen to your old friend Zobek? Your return has sparked nothing but chaos in the world of man. It made them question their beliefs, their perceptions of reality, and most of all their faith in a God who was doing nothing to stop it."

He waved an arm, creating an illusion that revealed the events of the past night.

"You see, we are both kindred spirits you and I. I knew that you would do everything in your power to obtain what you desired and I knew that my hapless children would be powerless against your might. Most of all, I knew that being that hateful creature that you are, you are prone to extreme displays of brutality the likes of which this current world would never be able to ignore."

The illusion showed the myriad of ways that I defeated the acolytes.

"Do you recall the same images that my children showed you through those mechanical light-boxes? Those machines are able to transmit similar messages all around the world at a speed that you cannot possibly fathom. While you were on your mission to slay my children, billions of humans were exposed to the reality that the centuries have forced them to forget."

"What about the acolytes? Are you so easy to forget about them?"

"You speak as though they served a purpose other than acting as bait. Yes. I needed them to prepare my summoning ritual and they would have succeeded if you left them alone. However it was through their spilled blood that the gates of hell were able to be broken and through your actions that my plans were able to meet their fruition."

I continued to gauge his actions, for he was likely planning something while we stood around in idle chit-chat. I knew that more of my power restored itself with each passing moment and with every soul claimed by my castle as my forces rampaged through the fields with battle. All I had to do was wait until the chance presented itself.

"I see, but that still does not explain how you were able to make it back."

"Simple. Do you recall that dark priest you unceremoniously butchered in front of those cowering monkeys? Do you remember the effect that your action had on all of them?"

"You mean those arrogant fools that thought they could fight against forces beyond their comprehension?"

"Yes. You may think that this act was leaning towards your advantage, for how it drew people to fear you and served to complete your end of the bargain with Zobek. However, I'm sure you understand that in murdering my son in such a way you have only created a martyr out of him. After seeing your display, it was only natural for the people to clamor for a savior, and as we can both see, the person they expected was and still is nowhere in sight. And so they turned to me. I didn't need much to get that reaction. All I had to do was send a few hundred of "your" demons in several interconnected cities and soon even the hardiest of skeptics could not deny what was before them."

I recalled the followers of the dark priest's congregation and how even with their combined might they would not be able to meet the gathering of souls needed to summon Lucifer, let alone open the gates of hell itself. If Lucifer's words contained any merit, then there would have been many thousands more of the dark priest's followers in foreign lands. Knowing that, there would have been no way for me to stop them in time by claiming their souls for myself. With that many desperate simpletons willing to forfeit their souls, there is no wonder that Lucifer was able to gather much more power than he required. This brought my attention to another matter.

"So it seems you have seen right through my son's plot."

"Yes, I have. After my initial defeat, did you really think I would cease to keep an eye on you? You who stole my throne on this Earth? You who ruined my plan to bridge my rebellion into heaven itself? You forfeited your seat of power the moment you chose to fall into that deep sleep! I am very well aware of your power, Gabriel, and how even now it looks to exceed that of my own. Even so, you and I can both see that your long sleep has cost your influence over this world."

"And so you wish to set a bargain. State your terms."

"I only wish that you turn your head the other way. You already know who I truly wish to fight against. For eons I helplessly sat in my cage, forever labeled the traitor when it was He who knew all along what I would do when He created me! Out of anyone else you should know how it feels to be used and betrayed against your will. Surely you can see how uncountable masses of these monkeys are destined to fall into my domain, while very few are permitted in heaven. Do you not see the injustice in that?"

His agitation quickly mellowed, almost as if he was pleading.

"The prophecies talk about His return seven years following this night. Help me, and together we will rid all creation of this absurdity!"

"What do I get in exchange?"

"My troops and I will immediately leave your kingdom for you to do as you please. I also guarantee you a place to rule by my side once we have dealt with my _incorruptible_ Father."

I paused for a moment then tilted my head in sarcastic disbelief. All the while cracking a mischievous smirk.

"For all your cunning I thought you would have already expected my response."

"A pity it had to be like this."

He sighed, then summoned a twisted black staff that oozed with a tar-like substance resembling the markings embedded in his forearms. His glowing purple eyes emphasized his fair skin and long raven hair, as well as his almost-untarnished wings whose only true fault was that their plumes had darkened into a shade of onyx.

He assumed the same combat stance that he used during our last confrontation, with his staff covering his body while leaning slightly to the front on his right side. The similar cues of his movements made me recall Lucifer's mastery over light and shadow magic, and how he was able to channel both energies using that staff of his. He would doubtless use the staff as a makeshift shield, relying on it to protect him where his armor could not. Those wings of his indicated that most of our confrontation would likely take place in the air. I knew that my abilities were more focused on ground combat, but I would deal with those shortcomings later.

I readied my sword and deflected a shadow-magic charged blow which triggered explosive convulsions that trickled down the humongous tower in which we stood. By parrying his blow at just the right moment, I was able to disengage our weapons while slightly throwing him off balance. I took advantage of the short opening I created and smashed into him with my Chaos Claws. Though I applied enough force to liquefy lesser beings, I knew it would only cause a minor bruise against Lucifer if anything. Lucifer swiftly regained balance by using his wings to catch the wind and while in mid-air began launching a barrage of light and shadow magic seals that summoned a series of Reapers around me. These Reapers were special in that they could only be damaged by the opposing poles of the energy that maintained their form. Although I lacked the light and shadow medallions that I used against them in my previous encounter, my Void Sword and Chaos Claws hissed with the very same energies as the ancient relics. I dispatched these with ease, growing increasingly bored at Lucifer's lack of variation in tactics.

He raised his hand and channeled another series of light and shadow magic seals that now littered the ground. From experience, I knew that these were force fields that required me to channel the same energies using my relics in order to cross. That had been in my days as a human, however. Using my teleportation I was easily able to get behind Lucifer and smack him aside with the back of my bare hand. He flew up into the air and I followed suit, using a combination of my teleportation, levitation, and by briefly solidifying my blood into the shape of wings—a trick I undoubtedly learned from the usurper. We exchanged blows back and forth into the air, never stopping to see the warring forces beyond us. The gates of hell only continued to unleash more of its horrors, and only by defeating Lucifer could I ever hope to close it. I used my Shadow Whip to gain on him while at a distance and my void projections to both help propel me into the air and hurl freezing vortexes into the fallen angel's way. Lucifer did not struggle against these for his wings granted him a maneuverability in air that I was barely able to keep up with. Being an angel, it was not inconceivable to see how much more skilled he would be at aerial combat, and his current efforts were a clear testament to that. He was far more agile in the air, and used this to land a few devastating blows using the magic he channeled through his staff. I was able to unleash my share of damage using my glacial sword and flaring claws until he was wounded to the point of exhaustion, but it would take several hours for us to reach this state. It felt as though days were passing by on a blur, but neither of us were undeterred. Lucifer relentlessly used his use of illusions as well as his mastery over the sky to skilfully dodge my strikes. Had it not been for my own ability to teleport, I would have lost him in his attempts to recover at a distance farther than I could reach. We roughly circled around the tower's length several times, the both of us being sent a significant distance by every clean hit we could land. These were rare, however, and we spent most of our time trying to build, anticipate, and exploit enough opportunities against the other. Each using a balance of melee and magic, Lucifer and I crossed weaponry and spells at a rate that made time seem infinitesimal. Every movement counted, for we were treading upon the precipice of defeat with each passing moment. Lucifer would use his will to cause hurricanes to appear before me, while I would counter by freezing these distracting gales using my sword and hurling the broken pieces of their outlines like piercing daggers. Our aerial waltz continued on and on while the world was being torn apart by the savagery of the skirmishes taking place in the city. We duelled like gods in the sky, completely indifferent to the affairs of the mere mortals below.


	22. The Wolf's Ascent

No one knew for sure how many hours or days had passed since the king of hell returned. Since Lucifer's return, the legions of hell have only started to become more numerous and though their foothold on the world of man was not yet complete, they were starting to push back the frontlines of my father's minions. Each unholy monstrosity was animated by a twisted desire to attain more souls—resources that served to nourish their wounds while strengthening each faction against the advances of the others. At first the Brotherhood scouts were able to provide valuable information regarding the three armies, but as our knowledge of our enemies grew, so too did our enemies' interest in our cause. Unlike the three armies, the Brotherhood of Light did not possess as many members and despite their preparations, were not fully equipped for direct confrontations against numbers of this scale. The only way we and the remaining survivors of this city were going to be make it was if we focused on hiding and letting the forces of darkness fight amongst themselves. The task was not easy by any means, but it was far more manageable in the face of the calamities overrunning the gradually twisting landscape. Time continued to wear on us during our reconnaissance runs, for we knew that the longer the king of hell remained in this world, the less our chances of making it out alive.

The longer the hours passed, the more the dimension of hell crossed over into the world of man. The fiery tempests that signalled the devil's return continued to tear their way across the land, completely indifferent to its prey. A few of the Brotherhood's scouts were swallowed by these malevolent storms and were quickly processed into thick chunks of shredded meat along with the demons they were trying to fend off. Others fell victim to barely corporeal tendrils scattered around the city. These seemingly sentient vines composed of shadow matter spread like wildfire and embedded themselves into the crevices within the mountains of amassing flesh. Based on the accounts of the few survivors who escaped the decrepit Science District, these vines all traced back to a gigantic chasm that spiralled deep into the catacombs of the city's foundations. Some swore that they could hear heavy breathing from within the tunnels, but no one dared to venture further into the darkness.

Whatever was left of the surface was as thoroughly ravaged as one would expect. Paved roads that were overcrowded with the sirens of deserted vehicles just a few days ago had cleared to give way to spiralling rugs of soft mutilated flesh that oozed dark ink-like fluids with every step taken by the frenzied swarms of hostile fiends. There was no way to tell whether these carcasses were once human or something much more sinister, but it was apparent that without the castle's sustained assault these organisms would have already swallowed a greater majority of the city. Of the scouts that survived, only two or three were able to report the presence of larger concentrations of these pained organisms near the twisting tower where the king of hell resided. It was as if the light of dawn itself was overcome by the dark tempests that frolicked all around us.

Other parts of the city were still being overtaken by my father's will. Ironically, these areas were increasingly becoming safer to traverse. Unlike the organic garden that was sprouting out of Lucifer's cage, the areas once flooded by the blood of Dracula's victims were starting to reform to stable stone roads and spires that made it far easier for scouts and marksmen to defend the Brotherhood outposts and the rescue teams that tirelessly explored the city for survivors. Of the millions of people this city housed, only a couple of thousand were able to escape. Our escape routes continued to dwindle at a constant rate, and despite the Brotherhood's best efforts, its defenders had little choice but to retreat and fight another day. We knew that there would be no end to this extermination unless the source for each was vanquished for good. Time only continued to march on, and as it did so, hunger and exhaustion began to overwhelm Victor's comrades. Food was present, but without any steady supply of reinforcements, and a gradually increasing number of refugees, our resources were starting to become insufficient.

To make matters somehow worse, the thin air which was already wrought by smoke and debris also carried the risk of disease naturally linked to the armies of the dead. The passive atmosphere seeped into the cracks of the fallen buildings and created clouds of poison that weakened and eventually killed those without the proper equipment. If the refugees could manage to escape the fiery tempests then they would also have to avoid regions that were heavily saturated by the lethal green fogs of death and decay.

Despite our combined efforts, we could not hope to prevail against the growing numbers of our enemies and the rapidly deteriorating city. Our only chance now was to attempt a direct strike against the tyrants who painted the skies with the glowing trails signifying their unstoppable power. Victor and I were the best candidates for such impossible odds, but our current state ensured that only one of us could afford to go. The other naturally had to stay behind and protect the survivors.

After fighting what now seemed to me a losing battle, I informed Victor of my intention to fight my way into Lucifer's desecrated sanctuary. At first, the holy warrior seemed reluctant, for he knew of the dangers that lurked around every crevice in Lucifer's territory. He also knew that without my help, the Brotherhood would lose a valuable ally against the forces that threatened the innocents that we were trying so hard to protect. In the end, we both knew that if there was any real chance of ending this madness, it was at the top of that tower where my father and the devil were locked in combat. We discussed our plans in further detail with the Brotherhood's remaining clerics and came to a consensus.

When I volunteered to scale the tower, there was no question in anyone's mind that I would be up to the task. At best, I could help my father put an end to the hell's ascent. At worst, I could slow down the inevitable and let more people escape through the Brotherhood's tunnels. We rested for a few hours discussing the rest of our plans and making sure that our strength was restored. It didn't take long for hell's scouts to track us down, however, and soon we found that the outermost layer of the underground gates was under siege. Victor and I weaved our way through the tunnels leading up to the entrance, butchering wave after wave of the oncoming invaders.

"Go back to hell, evil creatures!"

Victor growled as he charged his enchanted gauntlet and aimed his burning fist into the largest demon within range. With a furious yell he thrust into the beast's thick head and hurled it into the greater numbers of smaller imps and shadow beasts that surrounded their imposing commander. My approach was far more surgical. Using my power of mist, I warped myself around the battlefield and sliced the creatures' necks using my blades. Their movements were slow and predictable, but their numbers complicated the situation more than it needed to. I dashed back and forth, using my swords' spines to knock my grounded foes off balance and to exploit the openings they created before cracking their carapaces with the force of my blows and tearing out their hearts with my bare claws. The brutality I employed reminded me far too much of my father, but it was the most efficient way to eliminate some of these foes. They knew that the Heir of Darkness was against them, and I would not give them the advantage of revealing the Brotherhood's location to their superiors.

Before long we were able to make it to the barely functioning metal gates that separated the survivors from the predators that lurked in every corner of the surface. Dozens of demons waited for us behind the gates, all of which knew of the warriors who challenged and defeated the mighty Abaddon. Victor took up his cross and began chanting an ancient prayer. I sensed the familiar energies welling up inside the warrior and realized what he was about to do. He knew that I had the ability to hold off the enemies that tensed in anticipation and continued to call upon the power of the seven archangels. I called upon the Glaciem fragments in my beloved Crissaegrim and using my vampiric speed, drew my opponents into a freezing tornado that temporarily immobilized the armored horned demons and crystallized the imps and dark monks. I swirled around Victor as he continued to chant, dashing around the field and freezing as many enemies as I could. The holy energies that emanated from Victor's cross began to envelop him over time in a blinding aura that only grew brighter with each successive word that came from his mouth. I planted the Crissaegrim into the ground and braced myself as Victor finished the final syllables of his prayer.

The holy explosion that resulted was not as great as the one that wiped out my father's castle many years ago, but it was enough to clear the tunnels of the remaining invaders. Victor was visibly drained from the spell, and would need to rest immediately. Thankfully the tunnels were still clear enough for his allies to retrieve him. I supported him with one of my shoulders until his fellow warriors could retrieve him. He looked at me one more time before breaking the hesitation that bled from his weary eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"I am. Make sure to protect the strongholds while I am gone."

"Be safe, my friend. And know that God is with you."

I made sure that he and his allies could safely get behind the second set of metallic gates before I climbed my way back to the surface.

I morphed into a cloud of bats and swiftly approached Lucifer's tower. I absorbed the sights before me, and as I did so, I came to realize Lucifer's intricate deception. It dawned upon me how my father's return had become the catalyst for this colossal disaster rather than the deterrent, and how my own negligence had allowed Lucifer to return with the majority of his abilities intact.

I struggled to believe that there was some purpose to this, and if my father had actually been right all those centuries ago. Had evil prevailed? I could see the answer to that all around me, but could not bring myself to accept it. After all Victor and his men were still alive and fighting, and even a candle's flicker is bright enough to chase the darkness back into its corner.

The unhallowed tower where the devil resided had grown much larger since the last time I was out in the surface. I scanned the areas surrounding it while trying to filter out the tormented screams of the long dead that wriggled helplessly back and forth inside the structure's constantly reconfiguring components. I could not tell how much further I would have to go in order to reach the top but even from this height, where even the largest demons now looked like gnats, I could see the carnage that was sucking the life out everything in sight. The piled corpses that were held together by shadow vines and glowing green sigils of solidified soul energy had now consumed more than half of the city. Thundering blows echoed through the demented screams and loud pops of snapping bones until one large fiery explosion of demonic energy knocked me out of my transformation and into the suffering puzzle pieces of the tower.

Desperate souls clawed at my armor, begging for escape. I could feel the force of their grips warping the enchanted metal, corroding it with their disfigured appendages. There would be no escaping them using brute strength, and so I morphed into mist and slipped through the gaps in their fingers and then reformed into a colony of bats. I continued my ascent, noticing that the thundering blows were growing louder and louder. The echoes continued until finally, a singular explosion tore apart a large chunk of the tower. The organism proceeded to reform as though it was nothing more than a slight inconvenience. Moments later, I felt a large disturbance in the conflicting mass of energies that once surrounded the structure, and heard a large bellowing of laughter that seemed to momentarily appease the amalgam of tortured voices. It did not take long for me to notice the red-cloaked figure falling in the distance.


	23. Cold Embrace

I felt a sudden emptiness burning through my chest as if a silent confession was trying to force its way to the surface. For days I tirelessly fought against Lucifer, exchanging blow after bloody blow until finally, my boredom got the best of me and I relented in sheer mockery. It was true that even with his power restored he was no match for me, but Lucifer always seemed to be quite prepared for what I had in store. Who could blame him after all he had done up to this point? There was no question about the endless rebellions Lucifer must have had to quell since his defeat…of the countless rebellions of arrogant demons who must have questioned the fallen angel's authority after his great humiliation. I could still hear the proud bellows of the lowly pest who was enjoying my little show. I had already destroyed part of his tower with our last exchange and though it would surely reform in time, I was able to determine all that I needed to know. There was a purpose for Lucifer's actions, and our past confrontations had proven to me that the tower held some great importance to the angel. He was merely biding his time, hoping that I would not figure out why he seemed to be so keen in keeping me away from his precious tower. How stupid of him. All this time while he gloated and prattled on about his plan to overthrow his Father, I was observing his movements and his vain attempts to suppress the power he was absorbing from his unholy structure. I stalled for as long as I could, letting him believe that I was growing weaker and weaker from our exchange. Unlike Zobek, Lucifer had the potential to challenge me at my peak and I confess that I had always been curious to see how powerful he actually could become. Ever since our first meeting, part of me that questioned how the angel would have fought had he not been restricted by God's indirect intervention. As a creature of hell, Lucifer's power was bound to the abyssal realm and kept there in order to prevent him from ruling over the world of man. Though he was able to break out when we first fought, his connection had essentially been severed to the point of uselessness. As a result, he was only able to fight at a fraction of his ability, which had the side effect of making him look quite malnourished and barely able to manifest the shadowy plume of his wings. Nonetheless, he proved to be quite a challenge for my past self. I sighed in remembrance of the man I was back then, and reflected upon the reasons of why I fought with all my being…for a reason other than my contempt at the fate God had dealt me. It had been centuries since my first confrontation against Lucifer, and yet I still remembered it as freshly as the frigid dawn that has eluded me for just as long.

I opened my senses to the soft caress of the wind while I fell straight through the clouds. The past days were at first thrilling, since it seemed as though my centuries of toil were finally reaching some reward. After centuries of nothingness, I was finally in a position to exact my vengeance against my oppressors and now, no power in the world would be able to stop me. Unfortunately, the novelty eventually wore off and I found myself insensibly parrying Lucifer's almost infantile blows. I could no longer find any sort of enjoyment from this conflict, and could see that in spite of all his lies, Lucifer was justified in his rebellion even if it came at the cost of innumerable lives. In my reign I had done the same thing. Like cattle I herded uncountable masses of God's children and slaughtered them by the hundreds in order to prove a point. He may say that He loves them…that He cares for them, but He would never once intervene in any significant manner. I waited centuries for His return, slaughtering more and more of His disciples in order to hasten His intervention…but to no avail. Like Lucifer I was nothing but a gnat…and my actions were nothing but a futile attempt to gain the attention of a child who no longer cared about His toys. What were we to do but fight amongst ourselves for His entertainment? His children were being maimed and tortured beyond repair, and his once favored creation and most devoted warrior were now fighting for the title of the king of evil. Good…evil…the matter never was as simple as black and white. My son is lost to me. My wife is gone forever. There is nothing I could do but follow the only role I was assigned since the day I was born. It was far easier to convince myself that Lucifer was the enemy…at least he was an enemy I had the power to fight against. I would stand in his way and he would stand in mine up until one of us was gone for good. In some small way I am sure that even Lucifer acknowledges the futility of his situation. By fighting each other at our fullest potential we could finally end the other's existence—quite possibly the only reward either of us could conceivably reap after all our sins.

I slowly retreated back into the deepest recesses of my consciousness for a power I knew I would need soon enough. Within moments, I was transported into the hallowed halls of my castle, freshly restored to its former grandeur soon after I overcame the vile usurper. To my great surprise, the young image of my son was waiting for me. I knew this image couldn't possibly be real, but like that vision of Marie, I hoped to the very core of my being that it was.

"Trevor. You're not supposed to be here."

"I thought you needed my help, father, and so I am here."

"You know what happened the last time I saw you…"

"Yes. You did your best to protect me and you succeeded."

"I-I guess I did."

I felt a natural smile burning its way into my face, as if an eternity had passed since I last felt this much at peace. Trevor ran up to me in a child-like fashion and extended his arms. Being as short as he was, he could only reach my upper thigh as he buried his head in a deep embrace.

"I was so terrified, father. I thought that you would fall to that creature."

"You know I would never let any harm come to you Trevor."

I heard the irony that laced the very statement, and though this vision was not real, I could not ignore the similarities he had to my real son. Alucard…if only I had the chance to speak with you like this.

The child continued to embrace me and as he did so, I felt a strange feeling of elation that was just as strong if not stronger than my love for Marie. I kept trying to convince myself that the vision wasn't real, but part of me knew better. This was merely a fantasy that would never come to be. Perhaps in another life I could experience something like this, but in the meantime, I had other pressing matters to attend to.

I ruffled young Trevor's soft brown tufts of hair and kneeled down to give him a proper embrace.

"You're going to leave now, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, my son, but I have to."

"I understand."

He let go of his grasp and extended an arm. I grasped onto it as gently as I could, trying to keep my claws from grazing his soft pale skin as he led me down the castle's corridors into the gorgons' territory.

"So…how were you able to stay with mother after all these years?"

A genuine chuckle found its way escaping through my pained chest as I tried to find the proper words to say.

"Believe it or not, your mother was always far more terrifying than me. More than any lycan I have ever faced, it was always her temper that kept me anchored."

Trevor's face inquisitively lit up.

"You see my son, I was always prone to violent outbursts as a child…something that seems to run in our family. In fact, I recall a certain redheaded warrior that reminded me much of myself in my early years. Even though all the other children were afraid of me, they knew that your mother was much, _much_ worse."

"Why is that?"

"It's easy to be afraid of the loudest child in the barn, but after a while that child's antics becomes commonplace…and very much expected. Your mother was the opposite. Always so peaceful and friendly until someone does something to seriously anger her."

Trevor, never having seen his mother angry, or even at all, leaned closer. He didn't need to say a word, and seemed to enjoy my one-sided monologue.

"There was this one time when this particularly rowdy rascal named Grant tried to woo your mother with his mischievous antics. While he used his silver tongue to try to captivate Marie, he had members of his group try to distract me by pulling on my hair and getting me to charge at them. Thankfully your mother was already deeply infatuated with me, but once she caught wind of the situation, she promptly invited the three children to a picnic near the barn's well. She chose not to invite me for some reason and instead told me to wait by the corn fields just behind the fence overlooking where they were. At first I thought that Grant had won her over, but that thought soon dissipated when I saw your mother flipping Grant on his head and tossing him into the well. I could see the splash even from my great distance and saw the panic on one of the boys' faces—he had wet his pants! The other child wanted to run, but after a few words from your mother, he found himself in the same position as the other child. To this day I have no idea what your mother said to them, but in all my days of monster hunting, I have never seen such a reaction of fear from any man or thing on this earth."

"Sh-should I be afraid of mother then?"

"Of course not, my son. As long as you do as you are told, everything should be alright."

Trevor loosened up his collar as though he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or panicked.

We continued to walk down the candlelit path of the Bernhardt wing, laughing at the misadventures I had as a child and held each other close until we finally crossed the platform leading up to the gorgons' lair. I felt a shiver running through young Trevor's spine as he let go of my grasp and hid behind me.

"I'm afraid, father."

"Don't be. These sisters answer directly to me."

I did not wish to scare "my boy" with a display of my powers and so I walked with him and helped him to climb up to the bell-tower that alerted the gorgon sisters of my presence. The snake-like sisters convulsed with a supernatural speed that only frightened little Trevor all the more.

"Euryale. Stheno. Medusa."

"Your lordship."

"I have given you ample time to get what I requested. Now where is the Chaos Gem?"

Medusa stepped forward, noting the frightened child that was standing behind me. Though it was in her nature to twitch like a snake, she tried her best to walk as humanly as possible. She extended an arm carrying a spherical gem that shone with a flame that burned within its borders. Inside it was a crest crafted from dragon scales…the very reason I needed this relic. With the other two sisters bowed, Medusa presented the relic and then retreated. I nodded in regal manner, acknowledging their service, and sent them on their way. The serpentine sisters sped off as quickly as they came. Finished with our business, I turned back and saw Marie waiting for me at the gates. Trevor was at first apprehensive but later came to recognize who it was I was so happy to see.

"My love."

"Marie."

She flashed the same look of adoration that made me melt. Within the same moment, Trevor sheepishly approached her and gave her a long warm hug.

"Mother! Is it really you?"

Marie caressed his hair and playfully ruffled it much like I had done before.

"Yes my son, it is."

I stared into the both of them with a mixed feeling of absolute completeness and crippling sadness. Happy as the vision had made me, I knew that the dream had to end. I had what I was looking for, and it was now time to go back. I smiled at the vision that would never be…of the family I would never get to enjoy and turned my way back to the real world. I gave one last glance to that image and saw Trevor, now fully grown, standing next to the beauteous image of his mother. He gave a warm smile, saying,

"It's time to wake up, father!"

Suddenly I felt cold hands grasping my shoulders. Still barely able to process what had happened, I shook my head and struggled to regain the vision that I had momentarily lost. I felt a powerful upsurge of demonic energy as the incomplete tower gathered its power and blasted a blinding stream of greenish light into the fallen angel gliding far above us. Alucard turned, his wings undeterred by the force of the devil's transformation. I felt his hands hold me just a little tighter as we both saw the devil plunge himself into the sea of souls below only to emerge into his true form—a gigantic seven-headed beast with serpentine necks extending several dozen meters long. From each of its heads I could see horns of various shapes and sizes, and of those horns, I was able to count ten. The beast roared with an authority that boomed across the cityscapes and yelled in languages far more numerous than that of the tower's. The noise along with the chaos far below us shattered the surrounding stone structures until a great cloud of debris coated everything within the vicinity. The beast then ascended into the sky with a plethora of shadowy wings whose spectral plume resembled the fallen angel's wings. Its crimson skin reflected the tempests of hellfire that continued to ravage the land while the rest of its body, its legs in particular, resembled the ink-like platings of Lucifer's armor. The beast flailed its neck around, trying to find stability in its new form much like a newborn faun learning how to stand. Jets of hellfire blasted their way through its nostrils as it absorbed the tornadoes of hellfire and life force from the tortured beings far below.

Still plunging ever so slowly downwards, I grabbed my son by the arm and gave him a look signalling what I was going to do next. Having fought against me numerous times in the past, he had a sense of what was going to happen. He momentarily morphed himself into mist to let go of me, allowing me to plunge myself further down the sky as I took out the Primordial Chaos Gem and absorbed it into myself. I screamed as an indescribable torrent of power surged within me. My body reacted by transforming into a swirling stream of smoke that gathered higher and higher into the clouds into a vortex of blood and shadow energy. My body reformed into a reflection of my inner being—a beast made out of smoke and hardened scales of chaos energy. My glowing crimson eyes were the first to reform, followed by my draconic frame and finally by the semi-gaseous canopy of my very own wings. I soared to the skies, flying fast enough to catch up to the crimson beast, but not so fast that my son could not catch up. I felt a stinging sensation from Alucard plunging his enchanted blade into my tail, followed by the cold daggers of his claws, but soon he was able to climb his way onto my back. I roared as he held onto my neck, and the two of us approached our foe. I doubtless still had many things to discuss with my son, but in this infinite moment we were fighting alongside each other in a neverending state of twilight—never knowing when one of us might fall victim to the cold embrace of death.


	24. Morning Star

My father's draconic visage burned through the skies like a thick cloud of smog while we hastened to bring down the abomination that stood against us. I understood my father's meaning when he prepared his transformation but could hardly understand the force that compelled me to cling on to him even after everything he had done. It was true that though I knew his story very well, and saw why he walked his path, it was my duty to grant him his eternal rest no matter the cost. Nothing would change that now, and the events since his return have done nothing but convince me of his inability to repent. Despite everything, he had accepted his fate and was now no different than the abomination that he fought against. I knew that, but part of me still felt a painful sense of finality at what had to happen even if we should succeed at this impromptu attempt at the devil's life. Lucifer should not have been allowed to live for this long, and knowing my father, I had no doubt that he purposely enabled the devil to gain this much power. While I and so many others risked our lives in a futile battle, he was merely stalling as if this whole ordeal was some kind of game. For all their power and influence neither Lucifer nor my father cared about the casualties that they created simply by breathing and standing in place. Perhaps that was the reason they made for such effective rulers. Aside from their goals, everything else was a matter of attaining and spending resources.

Lucifer had emerged a new creature from the primordial pit from which he came. Where the seven-headed beast at first clumsily weaved its way through the cityscapes it now regained a dangerous form of sentience. With absolute authority it coordinated the rampages of his troops and personally laid waste to many of my father's reforming structures. The blood of the castle was powerless against this new foe as it struggled to pump out more and more reinforcements out of the deep recesses of my father's fallen kingdom. The armies of the dead and the fallen wrenched in pain at the malevolent roars of the Morning Star that had returned to claim his rightful place on Earth.

"Pathetic. Certainly you can do better than this."

My father laughed, his distorted voice echoing through the smoke in his lungs. My father had finally caught up to the gargantuan creature and breathed a jet of chaos flame into the beast's torso. This brought the attention of the heads, which flailed about in pain then momentarily arranged themselves into an intricate pattern. The heads arranged themselves in such a way that at least one was able to sustain its caustic breath while the others recovered from the onslaught. Despite my father's power, he would not be able to keep up with these steady streams of soul-devouring flame. He would have to use his great mobility to his advantage. I sensed an opportunity when my father executed a helical loop around the Morning Star and dropped towards the creature's back. While I dove, I finally let loose the feelings of rage and regret that I had suppressed for centuries, and allowed myself to assume my true form. My Shadow Claws grew to inhuman proportions as thick tufts of silvery-white fur coated my entire body and altered it to resemble a feral lycan. I sprouted my demonic wings which too assumed the bestial form that was born from my innermost frustrations.

Maneuvering my way through the clouds, I used my wings to increase my speed as I dove into the creature's back and plunged the Igneas-empowered Crissaegrim to the hilt into Lucifer's exposed spine. The creature howled with an ear-shattering roar that reverberated through my delicate ears and set me off-balance. I was inches away from falling off when I figured to use my claws as an anchor into the beast's thick scales. I scaled my way around it while it twisted and turned, writhing about like a python waiting to strike. The sword would take effect within a few minutes, but I had to ensure that Lucifer was unable to tamper with the blade until then. As soon as I was able to regain my footing on the creature's topside underbelly, I summoned the Masamune and prepared for anything the creature might do.

Meanwhile, my father did well to distract Lucifer by continuously blasting it while weaving around the serpent's many necks. Though my father's true form was great in its stature, it was but an annoyance to the great serpent, whose talons could easily grasp the Dragon's entire body. Were it not for his lumbering movements, Lucifer would have toppled my father numerous times in the last few minutes. Within moments, the serpent's movements became far less erratic and more predictable, and I could sense Lucifer's power starting to dwindle. I weaved my way through the beast's necks and readied my blade to strike into his heart. Right as I was about to plunge the Masamune where Lucifer's heart should have been, I was interrupted by a flurry of demonic blasts. It seems that from the moment I had landed onto Lucifer's back, he had begun a summoning ritual that linked several of his most devoted and powerful servants to him. I nimbly dodged a blast of unholy energy and parried several claw strikes from a multi-armed horned demon. Neither I nor my combatants could maintain a steady footing through our moving stadium and so we spent most of our time trying not to fall off. I used this to my advantage by parrying with the Masamune where I could and then slicing off their claws and talons. The task however, was far more difficult against the Dark Monks and Apostles, whose ability to levitate granted them a level of mobility I could barely keep up with. Even as I briefly transitioned into mist quite often, their blasts were nonetheless able to inflict harm against me. Without the Crissaegrim and its Glaciem components, I was powerless to heal unless I was somehow able to phase through my foes and steal their life force with my mist. Useful as that option may be, it was nothing but impractical in my current situation. The constant movements made it difficult to move around as is, and were it not for my Shadow Claws, scaling Lucifer would have been a near impossibility. Transforming myself into mist would do nothing but make me lose my footing while also drifting too far away from my moving platform. The winds that were blowing against us were far too strong, and I wondered whether my opponents would have been able to maintain their positions had they not been bound to their master. I swatted at them with the Masamune, only realizing the Apostles' true goal once I was too far to do anything about it.

Lucifer roared with an expression of poor torment followed by one of restored vigor once the Crissaegrim had been removed from his spine. From my vantage point I could see a thick green geyser of blood and energy spewing out from the spot where I embedded my sword. The servant was proud of his achievement, and tossed my blade out into the clouds, but only received a short moment to rejoice before my father roasted him alive with his hellfire. Catching my sword with one of his talons, my father approached me and hurled the blade into one of Lucifer's necks, hammering it with his tail like the crack of a whip while he continued to roast the fallen angel. The force of my father's blow sent the sword through Lucifer's neck which weakened it enough for my father to wrap himself around it and snap the bony tendons that held it in place. I dove for the sword while it continued its flight and caught it, using its sustained momentum to boost me into the neck adjacent to the freshly severed limb. I readied my Masamune and prepared to cut into this second neck but found that the sword was unable to pierce the serpent's skin. Given the Masamune's ability to bypass the material realm, I was surprised to find it ineffective against its target. It then dawned upon me that since the Masamune's enchanted metals were crafted from the abyss, perhaps Lucifer's skin was naturally resistant to its effects as a result to eons of exposure to its magical energies. No matter. I sheathed the Masamune and drew on the Crissaegrim as I spun around Lucifer's neck and prepared to strike.

Using my left claw as an anchor, I activated the Glaciem and plunged my sword into Lucifer's throat. The attached head screamed in wretched agony while its blood froze and its life force flowed from the blade and healed my wounds. I carved my way around the neck until the thick layer of skin that protected it was all but useless. Hanging onto the Crissaegrim's still-plunged hilt I then summoned the Masamune with my free arm and with it, shattered the frozen appendage until a crystallized stump was all that remained. Lucifer writhed in pain while my father continued his relentless assault into another head whose eyes he blinded with a sudden lashing from his tail and whose jaws he tore open with his piercing claws augmented with a visible gauntlet of Chaos flame. His eyes and forearms glowed with the Void and Chaos energies which he adeptly summoned to alter his breath attacks and increase the damage dealt by his crackling claws. Using his mastery of his own magic, the Dragon froze chunks of the serpent's lower body in order to weaken his target's skin and then proceeded to shatter these appendages with Chaos-laced strokes from his tail. Lucifer's own tail relented and was stripped to the bone from the repeated assaults of the Dragon against his prey.

The other heads readied themselves for another assault in retaliation, heavily roasting my father in the process for but a few moments. He had succeeded, however, and once the smoke cleared I saw that he was repaying the gesture by doing the same to the damaged throat of the head whose jaws he had torn apart. Crimson eyes glowed past the inferno that burned him while three of the four remaining heads did everything in their power to distract him. The fourth kept its attentions on me, trying to deter me from interrupting it, and keeping me distracted long enough until Lucifer was able to capture my father in one of his talons. Due to my father's smoky composition I was unsure of the damage that he had sustained, though I did not have to seeing as the hardened scales of smoke and ash that coated his outermost layer of skin were starting to lose their solidity and were now starting to meld with the clouds of smoke that were constantly being emitted from the webbed linings of his reptilian wings.

Lucifer then gleefully proceeded to crush the Dragon with his talon while his prey frantically tried to break free. The Dragon roared in pure anguish at a grip that must have simultaneously shattered hundreds of his bones. Healing from the damage was a simple matter, but due to Lucifer's tight grasp, he was not in a position to restore his former shape. Now I had gained the attention of the serpent's remaining necks—all four of which were preparing to scorch me with their blasphemous flames. Once again, I used the Glaciem to freeze portions of Lucifer's skin off in order to allow the Masamune to bypass its defenses. I dashed into each neck and using the sword, tried to cut as many tendons as I possibly could. Lucifer's erratic movements made it difficult to sufficiently damage the others further than a cut throat, but I was able to carve one neck until it could no longer sustain itself under its own weight. The damaged neck dangled about with barely a strip of flesh, and like the others, leaked with a fountain of vital fluids. Lucifer shuddered in pure exasperation at the pain he was being subjected to, but it was nothing compared to his fury once he found out that my father had escaped from his clutches.

Mere moments after I carved out the fourth head, I noticed a cloud of crimson smoke where my father had re-emerged. With his spectral blade drawn and his fury renewed, he transported himself into another neck and plunged his blade into the socket that I had cut out. He shouted as he jabbed the blade deeper, withdrew, and altered the blade size into gigantic proportions. The frozen pieces of the dismembered limb scattered through the breeze, which only infuriated the fallen angel even more. Now only two heads remained, and my father was in no mood for showing mercy. Immediately after he withdrew his blade, he summoned his eldritch gauntlet and from it sprung the Shadow Whip. The glowing red energies of the whip wrapped itself around one of the necks, further exposing a wound I had inflicted earlier. I took this as a chance to summon the Igneas and the Masamune and stabbed them both into the gaping wound. Using the further enhanced strength that I gained from my bestial transformation, I swung an arc inside the serpent's bleeding throat and tore it to shreds. Jade cascades of blood painted the skies where Lucifer struggled to maintain his form. I could imagine the terror in his soldiers as they saw their great leader being brutally butchered before their eyes. We descended lower and lower into the city as my father approached the final head. As he transported himself close to it with his crimson cloud of smoke, I could feel something sinister brewing. Rather than make an example out of his humiliated foe, my father had other plans in store. Once again he summoned the Shadow Whip and forcefully wrapped its glowing red energies around the neck, using it as reins to control the great beast. He soared high up into the sky, high enough for the city's remains to appear microscopic and then took out the burnt remains of the Vampire Killer. Extending his free hand, he pressed the cross into Lucifer's neck and burned the holy symbol into it, all the while chanting a prayer that was all too familiar at this point. I could see my father sending me a look signalling my departure and though I saw the usual expression of despair in his eyes, I could also sense how humorous he found our current situation to be. I turned my back, and in doing so barely noticed the shadowy plumes that embedded themselves into my chest while Lucifer nearly tore his remaining neck trying to escape. In his desperation, he managed to snap a few tendons which gave him the position he needed to blast my father with hellfire while his target stood immobile. My father smiled, possibly recognizing the possibility of his own demise upon the completion of the spell, and the sheer irony of calling upon the help of the one Being that benefited from their ruinous tantrum. With the spectral plumes of Lucifer's wings still embedded in my chest, I forced my way forward, sprouted my own wings, and struggled until I was able to break free. With any luck, I would be able to keep Lucifer from blasting my father, allowing him to complete the last few passages of the incantation. Painfully weakened from my injuries, I sustained myself by embedding the Glaciem into Lucifer's flesh as I charged forth, the blade just barely healing my wounds thanks to its ability to siphon the devil's life force into myself. Extending an arm in an almost habitual reflex, I groaned, feeling my bones crack to the rhythmic beat of my demonic wings while I forced my way through the shadowy spikes, hoping to make it in time.

"N-!-!-!"

I felt a cold elation suddenly overcome me followed by a strange sensation I could only describe as heaven's light. Suddenly, there was darkness, and an even colder absence of feeling in my entire body. Was this death finally catching up to me? I wondered as I closed my eyes, completely unable to process the moment. I heard strange whispers echoing through the silence interspersed with bouts of childish laughter. I thought I felt myself speak, but could not decipher the words that I uttered.


	25. Curtain Fall

A bright flash of light obscured my vision and before I could register that the spell had already been cast, I was blasted away from the crimson serpent's broken remains. I felt a loud booming continuously echoing through my ears, ringing at a frequency that repeatedly assaulted my damaged ears. The ringing ceaselessly undulated with a booming ferocity that felt like hours condensed into a hastened heartbeat. I held the sides of my face, trying to regain some form of stability, but the blast had numbed my senses and all I could perceive was a nauseating sensation that separated my barely conscious mind from the rest of my body.

"I- th—is rea—y wh- ou- -anted, G-b—el?"

A barely coherent voice echoed through a distance too far away to reach, and I floated just now feeling the sensation of my burning skin and the once limitless reserves of power that now seemed lost to me. I helplessly floated through the air and questioned why my wounds had not yet healed. This was not the first time I had cast this spell and yet it felt like I was withering away…as though the centuries I spent defying time's decay had finally seized me. What was I to do now that all the pieces had been cleared? Zobek was no more, I could no longer sense Lucifer's presence, and now it appears as though I too was close to reaching my exit. I could see the light, and now all I needed to do was surrender. After a millennia of suffering, I could finally meet my end. I smiled, finding it endlessly humorous how the memories that tormented me for centuries were now nowhere to be found. My role was complete, and after all my struggle I was free to renounce it. I knew that heaven's gates were shut the moment I took on my mantle, but I suppose an eternity of oblivion was the only thing I could achieve. I felt the light of dawn taking hold of me, beckoning me to release myself from my eternal bonds. I reached for the burning cross that continued to singe my tight grasp and prepared to end everything by my own hands. One final leap. My last trial.

The man once known as Gabriel Belmont died the day that I slew the Forgotten One and escaped his dimensional prison. He died the day he gave up everything and gave into the dark role that God had chosen for him. It has been so many lifetimes since that day, and yet I have never felt the need to breathe as much as I did during this fleeting moment. One push was all I needed. One simple final action…

I thrust my arms outward, still gripping onto the burning alloys of the Vampire Killer but ultimately failed to accomplish my task. Despite everything, one thought, one regret held me back from my desperation. Tre—Alucard was still here somewhere, and I could not leave this world unsure of his safety. I felt a loud thud that crushed most of my now-brittle bones and punctured what remained of my innards as my corrupted blood gushed out. In my indecision, it seemed that my chance had passed.

I waded through the bloody tears that clouded my sight and through my sheer force of will, slowly started the process of regaining control over my own body. The task was tedious, but with enough time I was able to recognize the shadows that surrounded me, and the voice that reached out to me as the dust settled. I was surrounded by the majestic spires of my castle, as though it had never been destroyed. I questioned whether or not this was a dream for there was no way to distinguish fiction from my reality. I saw Trevor's silhouette and crawled towards it, realizing that his image was warping more and more into the vampire Alucard as I neared him. He approached me and extended a hand, dusting off the smoky debris that embedded itself into my fading cloak and armor. My powers still steadily fading, I found it increasingly more difficult to manipulate my blood or the magic the sustained my youthful appearance. He then reached for his Crissaegrim and tossed it towards me while he summoned the abyssal blade that he used in his disguise. The ringing in my ears had not yet stopped, and so I could barely understand the words he said to me. Not without compromising my vision and further bolstering my now sluggish movements. I caught the blade, understanding his goal and what his actions meant. Our collaboration was short lived, but it made me happy to think that aside from my mind's concoctions, I was able to reach some worthwhile end with my wayward son. I leaned on the enchanted longsword and used it as a crutch as I approached him.

"You understand why I must do this, father."

"I believe I do."

I coughed and absorbed the blood that composed my cloak into myself so that I could hasten my healing and regain some of my magic.

Alucard sensed my recovery and dashed forward at a speed I could barely keep up with in my current state and slashed with his dimensional blade. I took two quick steps back and used the Crissaegrim to parry his merciless strikes. Due to my inexperience with using this blade, coupled with my relative weakness, Alucard was able to dominate our fateful duel, knocking me on my back by sprouting his wings and using them as a way to boost his movements on the ground. I rolled just in time to narrowly avoid a stab that shattered the stony path where we stood and then stabbed the Vampire Killer in my left hand into the ground, using it to spring myself back up into a standing position. Alucard cracked his neck, as though he was merely getting started, moved himself into position and then vanished. I felt a loud boom momentarily knocking me out of balance, realizing that my son had snuck behind me when he had already launched his attack. I turned just in time to block another strike from his deadly sword but could not react fast enough to avoid his leg tripping my by the heel. Not wanting to harm him, I used the flat of the Crissaegrim's blade to knock him out of the way. Within a moment's notice, he angrily parried my blow and clawed at me with his free hand. I tasted the river of blood coursing through my cheeks as I was once again knocked into the ground. He pointed the sword to my neck and took a deep breath.

"Why did you do it, father? Why did you let so many suffer?"

"You know what I am son, and what I have become. There is no hope for me. There never was."

"I have seen your past many years ago, father, when the Mirror of Fate revealed all I that ever needed to know. You've always had a choice to shape your destiny, and yet you did nothing but surrender to what you thought was expected of you. Tell me, is this what God would have wanted? Is this what mother would have wished for?"

"God knew of my destiny the moment He created me. It is one thing to merely watch my destiny unfold but another thing altogether to live through it. I have dedicated my life completely devoted to His cause and all that I ever received in turn was this eternity of bloodshed. Even when I tried to defy Him I was following His plan."

"He gave you the chance to repent on your own terms and in your rage you squandered it until the bitter end. I thought that by setting out an entirely new path you would redeem yourself, but like Lucifer you let your selfish desires overcome you."

"God always knew exactly what I would do and yet did nothing to stop me. You have seen this first hand as early as today. Where was He while Lucifer and I took to the skies? Where was He when our combined armies razed the world below us?"

"That does nothing to change who was ultimately responsible for all the carnage. This you cannot deny."

"What—did you want me to simply surrender? To let Lucifer have his way while I stood idly by?"

"No, but you could have ended everything long before it ever escalated to the degree that it did. I honestly do not know what to say, father. Saying that I am disappointed would imply that I expected much more of you. In the end, you were always nothing more than the monster you set out to become."

"That may be the case, but I cannot undo what has already taken place."

"Father…I do not even know why I acknowledge you as such."

"I-I am sorry my son. More than anything else, I cannot undo what I did to you. To this day I consider it one of my foulest sins. You never should have lived past that night. I was scared. I didn't want to lose the one last connection I had to your mother. You were the last thing that kept me sane and I…I never thought that turning you would rob you of your only chance of ever meeting her."

"It is too late for that now. Far too late. We were manipulated by the strings of fate, but you never tried to break out of it. You never even questioned it."

"You were right, Trevor. I'm sorry. I cannot take back my sins, but I am sorry."

"If only an apology was enough to undo everything you have wrought."

"If only."

Alucard's leg twitched as he cleanly thrust the Masamune through my neck.

"This world no longer has room for fiends such as us."

The abyssal energies from within the blade crackled with a purplish glow that swallowed the jagged cut that its master made on my neck. My skin gave way without any resistance and then he withdrew his blade, kicking me to the ground soon afterward. I held my neck, trying to seal the wound that was already on the onset of recovery. In this moment I was sure my body would finally give way. I swallowed the pain for a moment and in doing so, noticed an almost negligible spark of unfamiliar energies emanating from my son's body.

More than the putrid stench of my son's abyssal blade, more rancid than the obsidian metals that comprised his ornate armor was a dark aura ruminating from within him like a chrysalis waiting to sprout. With my arms still gripping tightly onto the Crissaegrim and the Vampire Killer, I leapt at my son and channeled my remaining Void magic into the damaged cross, blasting him with its freezing light. Alucard dodged part of the azure beam and drew his blade out from its immaterial sheath. He smiled and though his face resembled that of my son's, I recognized his surreptitious expression as none other than Lucifer's.

"Did you enjoy my little show, Gabriel?"

I gripped onto my weapons tight enough to draw blood from my weakened fingers.

"How…_dare_ you!"

Of all of Lucifer's deceptions, this recent attempt left me absolutely livid. I charged with the ferocity of a mindless beast, quick as a stallion, more tireless than the wind. He laughed while weaving his way around me, parrying my blows with the same bored nonchalance that I struck him with days before.

"What happens now, Prince of Darkness?"

I shrieked in an unfiltered rage that sparked up whatever Chaos magic I had left in my reserves. The soul devouring flames consumed me, scorching my very soul further as I channeled its energies from my forearms into the Vampire Killer. The enchanted metals twisted and corroded within my grasp but no matter how much I forced it, the mystical whip would not unravel. Being a creature of the night, the weapon was practically useless to me…and so I projected the flames through my bandaged forearms and using the cross' hilt, swiped away my son's abyssal blade by striking at its flat ridges.

After a fashion, it seemed as though the Combat Cross somehow sensed my desire to save my son and unlatched itself from its enchanted bindings. I took upon this chance and projected my Chaos flames into the cross body, which then flowed into the chain links in the same way that Shadow Magic once did centuries in the past. Coated by the unscrupulous fires of Chaos, the Vampire Killer's spiked whip sparked with white-hot jets of my unbridled fury. Lucifer saw the weapon that humiliated him during his first defeat at my hand, and somehow grew paler than Alucard's marble complexion. His dreadful reaction was priceless.

Still somewhat traumatized from our confrontation a millennium ago, Lucifer began making embarrassingly routine missteps in his movements, becoming pitifully predictable in his attempts to retaliate. I weaved around his clumsy sword strikes, striking at the non-vital regions where I knew my son would recover. I waited for my opportunity, reading my opponent's lacklustre movements as though he was losing his grip on his vessel. Using the Crissaegrim's added reach and weight, I knocked Lucifer out of balance by slashing at the Masamune's upper hilt which loosened his grip and threw him airborne. I jumped up, caught him mid-air, and hurled him back to the crater from which I landed. Walking towards him, I readied the Vampire Killer with its chain retracted, and with its damaged stake hilt prepared to strike him down.

"I know you…Gabriel Belmont. Your feelings…will betray you. You won't kill your son to destroy me."

I smiled as I brandished the Crissaegrim and motioned myself to stab him. Lucifer screamed in apprehension of my actions and frenziedly expelled himself from his unwilling victim. I seized him by the neck seconds before he could completely reform and threw him on the ground, whipping him a dozen more times with the Vampire Killer. I felt his bones crack with every lashing and continued cracking my former weapon until his unarmoured body became an intricate checkerboard of deep lesions. He crawled writhing in pain while deliberately curbing his pleas for mercy. I naturally continued until only uneven stubs remained of his feathery plumes. He got up on his knees and stared at me with his purplish eyes and in a final gesture smiled at the finality of his cruel fate.

"I…yield to you, Prince of Darkness."

I cracked my whip and impaled him with its spiked tip, pulled him closer, and then stabbed him with its stake body.

"I…renounce you."

The energies that once animated him drained into the cross, his immortal energies flowing from the holy artifact in an incoherent beam into the tower where he drew his powers from. The fetid mass of bodies that infected the city consecutively exploded into bloody chunks and were ravenously absorbed by the rivers of blood flowing through my restored territory. Any remaining demons that once thrived on the chaos lost their connection to their damned dimension and began their descent back into decay. Their bodies withered under the influence of the sinking tower, which started to collapse under its own weight without the constant stream of empowerment it gained from the lost souls in hell. The imbalance of magical energies led to the collapse of the grounds that had not been converted into my territory. Without its leader, hell was powerless to stay in the Earthly plane, and at present it appeared as though the forces of heaven, though unseen, were starting to push the invaders back from whence they came.

Now it seemed the tempests had come to rest and the strings of fate were beckoning for the curtain call. Nonetheless, there was one other matter to take care of. I drew myself towards Lucifer's smoking corpse and withdrew the Vampire Killer, looking at the fallen angel's satisfied expression. In his final moments, it seemed that even the devil had found his humility. With the weapon in hand, I approached my son's unconscious body and gazed upon his peaceful expression. I wondered if Lucifer's charade truly was just a show, and if my son was able to hear my final sentiments. Perhaps he was right. This world no longer had a place for monsters such as I. I looked around me, absorbing the stony spires of my former home while the crimson flags with my family crest drifted in the vicious breeze of the battle's aftermath. I bit into my wrist and let droplets of blood fall to my son's mouth. His body would absorb it in time, and he would recover. I kneeled down before him and saw the dawn's reflection on his marble face. Reaching out my hand, I playfully rubbed his thick tufts of white hair and smiled not at what could have been, but at what his life would now be. Without me, Lucifer, or Zobek, the world would now truly be able to move forward. The Lords of Shadows' era had reached its end.


	26. Absolution

I shuffled towards the cathedral where I first awoke and waited for a worthy warrior to finally best me before my time ran out. I sat at my throne, waiting for my challenger to end my torment. Upon achieving my last victory, I left the Crissaegrim to one of my trusted jailers and the Masamune to my highest ranking vampire warrior. In addition to these fabled blades, I relinquished the damaged remains of the Vampire Killer and ordered my servants to store it away near the gorgons' lair. I knew my son would recover soon and once he did, he would have to work to recover his old relics.

Having scattered the remnants of hell and the society of the dead, my troops retreated to their old posts. The Harpies patrolled the skies surrounding the spires, the undead wandered around the inner courtyards while Skeleton Warriors hid alongside the corpses in the underground dungeons. The Jailers and their minions stood vigilant at their posts in the dungeons while the lycans scoured the turrets and spires surrounding my restored fortress. Three nights passed before I received word of an intruder. To my great surprise, the remnants of my armies were being systematically eradicated by none other than the Brotherhood of Light. Of the many soldiers that were fighting to breach the castle gates, one particular warrior stood out as the best. Equipped with what looked to be my old relics, this warrior of light was able to dispatch even my most powerful troops with absolute impunity. I looked upon the invaders from the safety of my balcony and shambled back to my throne. My battle against Lucifer had spent most of my powers, and it would take too long for me to begin to recover. Not even the castle's blood could spawn enough reinforcements after the taxing task of holding hell's forces back for seven days. Though it had the power to call upon more of the souls it still contained within it, it was in dire need of rest after its tough ordeal.

Finally, the warrior of light burst through the stained glass murals that adorned my throne room using the assistance of his Seraph Wings. He crushed a glowing purple crystal which summoned a shadow demon which promptly charged at me. Being no stranger to this type of demon, I summoned my Void Sword using the dwindling remains of my magical reserves and made short work of the beast. I had made ample use of this same summoning ritual in my days fighting the Lords of Shadow, and still remembered its predictable movement patterns. It charged forward like a beast and so I indulged it by letting it get close enough for me to slice off one of its arms, followed by its stomach, and finally its still-beating heart. The flying demon yelped in agony before helplessly dissipating in a cloud of dust.

"I must congratulate you on your success, warrior. I never expected you to make it this far."

"What kind of abomination are you?"

"One who once fought in the name of your God."

He grunted in a way that reminded me of my grandson.

"Your blasphemy will end here, monster. I'll not let you past."

"I have no doubt."

I extended my arm in pure curiosity.

"Indulge me if you will. Those relics that you wield, how did you come across them?"

"These were passed down through the generations of the Belmont clan. They act as a keepsakes to keep us dedicated to our cause."

"I see, and I would have the name of the warrior who stands before me."

"Victor."

Beyond the holy energies fighting to purify my accursed abode, I sensed an all-too familiar spectral trail.

"Tell me one last thing, Victor Belmont. My son. Do you know him?"

"Yes. In fact, he is on the way slaughtering your armies as we speak."

"Very well then. Do your worst, boy!"

The Belmont warrior weaved around the throne room with inhuman speed. Whether this was the result of my weakness or his power, I no longer cared. After my earlier display, I was left unable to manifest my Void or Chaos energies. However, in order for this last plan to work, I would have to convince him of my power. I consumed a goblet full of blood that was resting on my throne and tossed it aside. Though it was not enough to trigger the restoration of my powers, the blood enabled me to fully utilize my vampiric abilities. I dodged and teleported around the battleground, putting on a show for my eager audience. The Belmont warrior fiercely attacked with a flurry of strikes highly reminiscent of my old techniques.

"Haha! So I see the Brotherhood still uses the same antiquated methods. How amusing…"

I continued to attack him with my claws and using whatever control I could exert over my own blood. I used a variety of constructs ranging from my Shadow Whip down to the usurper's blood wings in order to mock my combatant, imitating the very relics that I once wore. After a lengthy show, my body had reached its limits and no longer responded to my whims. Eventually my movements began to resemble his, and the warrior was able to take advantage of the openings I tried my hardest to suppress. Still, I was happy to be fighting in such a manner—an even fight purely determined by skill. At the apex of our duel, I dropped to my knees, unable to stand, and fell to the warrior's antique replica. I managed to get a few words out, interrupting the warrior's prayer of absolution.

"Well done, warrior."

"May your soul rest in peace, monster."

"Funny…I hope so too."

I felt a sudden blackness overtake my senses.


	27. Oblivion

Waking up once more in the confines of a musty old cathedral I crawled out of my coffin, barely having the strength to stand on two feet. I could barely see past the darkness, but could vaguely make out the vision of a pale, white-haired man standing at the distance. He appeared before me a walking shadow, completely shrouded in light. In his hand was my old weapon, the cross that symbolized my fight against the forces of darkness, and as he wordlessly approached, I knew that my reward had finally come. I reached out for him, now too weak to stand, collapsing on my stomach. The man grabbed me and turned me over, tears flowing down his face. I nodded, smiling at the dawn that was rising before my eyes. The dancing flames that draped the cathedral bowed down to the authority of the sun, revealing the cracks in the ruined catacombs that surrounded us.

"Is it you, my son?"

"Yes…father…"

I felt his cold fingers wrapping themselves around my shoulders as he plunged the warped cross deep into my heart. I reflexively shuddered not because of the pain but because of the refreshing lack of it. My vision started to warp around its edges, and in a final delusional glimmer of light, I saw my son as he was before I forced my own curse upon him. Standing next to him was a pristine maiden in white, helplessly crying at what was to be our final goodbye.

"Is this really it, my love? Is there nothing else you can do?"

"It appears so. If you ever see our son again, tell him that I have always been proud of him."

"Why don't you tell him that yourself?"

I felt a warm smile creep into the sagging flaps of my dry lips.

"I am well on my way to death and you still see it fit to playfully mock me? Should I feel relieved that neither of us raised him?"

"Well he did turn out quite nicely now didn't he?"

"Give or take a few…indiscretions."

I was never sure whether the Marie that I saw was truly her, or if she was a manifestation created by my power. I continued to walk with her while the castle walls surrounding me crumbled, revealing a new world beyond the silent solitude of my fortress. The rivers of blood that I had grown accustomed to transformed into streams of water before my eyes and at this point, I knew that I was truly going mad. The cracked fields that were stained by the blood of countless warriors dissolved into the grassy fields that were tossed about by the wind. I saw the sight as endlessly unfamiliar and yet quaintly delightful. I walked with Marie until we reached the old barnyard where we played as children. I heard the screams and chuckles of invisible children as I passed through these fields until the both of us reached the horizon where the sun was starting to set. I weakened with every step that I took until Marie was in a position to carry most of my weight while I waddled about like a cripple. She could not cross past the horizon's end, where I knew I had to continue my journey. She placed a warm hand on my shoulder and leaned on it, soaking my rough withered skin with her tears. I turned my back one last time and shyly kissed her on the cheek.

"I will always love you, Gabriel."

"I love you too…Marie."

I took a few steps into the darkness and collapsed. With my fall came the quick dissipation of the world that Marie brought with her. Now an endless void surrounded me and I was unable to even lift my neck to see how far the darkness stretched. Had I passed through heaven on the way here? I chuckled. Such a fate was undoubtedly not for me.

I closed my eyes and rested forever in the shadows of oblivion.


End file.
