In a world where magic intertwined with technology a century ahead of Earth's, the streets buzzed with activity. Elves, fairies, ogres, and other mystical beings went about their daily lives under a sky filled with floating vehicles and arcane neon signs.
A man walked calmly through the crowd — tall, 6 feet in height, dressed in a sharp black suit and flat cap that clashed with the world's futuristic tone. His old-school style made him stand out. Slender, muscular, and composed, he exhaled slowly, the cigar between his lips glowing faintly.
He stopped in front of a silver door etched with glowing magic runes. For a moment, he just stood there. Then, with a sigh, he pulled the cigar from his mouth, dropped it to the ground, and crushed it under his heel.
The door creaked open on its own, revealing nothing but darkness inside.
He stepped in. The door shut behind him, sealing out the light and sound of the busy world.
In the pitch-black room, he reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek black card, its edges lined with delicate golden patterns. The moment he held it up, golden flames burst to life around him, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
A voice echoed from the fire.
"There have been sightings of hostile vampires across the cosmos."
The man removed his cap, revealing messy blond hair. He ran a hand through it and scoffed.
"And what do you expect me to do about that?"
"There is no one more qualified to hunt them than you, S-Rank Divine Visionary — Val Hellsing."
His eyes gleamed gold, reflecting the flames, as the corners of his lips curled into a grin.
Akira sat atop the school building, his breaths visible in the cold air as mist curled behind him. Mikage, seated beside him, noticed the chill and remarked, "I guess winter's close."
"Yeah... Time sure flies," Yukiko said, standing nearby with her arms crossed.
"Who would've thought? One day I'm getting shot, and the next, I've got a miniature army helping us fight Night Walkers," Akira said, exhaling deeply.
"They're pretty convenient, if I do say so myself," Mikage added with a grin.
"They are," Yukiko agreed, "but if we rely on them too much, we might get dull."
"You're right," Akira said, then gave a subtle gesture. The shadow soldiers halted their training immediately.
As Mikage and Yukiko stood up, Akira suddenly vanished—and in his place, a soldier stood where he had just been. Their eyes widened as they quickly scanned the area and spotted Akira now on the ground below.
"W–W–What did you just do?" Mikage asked, startled.
"What do you mean?" Akira replied innocently. Then, catching sight of his own shoulder, he smirked. "Ah—right. I forgot to tell you. Ever since I got these soldiers, I've been experimenting a bit... I tried integrating my Shadow Step with them."
He raised a finger dramatically. "And I call it—drumroll please."
One of the soldiers obediently began tapping his armor in a rhythmic beat.
"Shadow Swap," Akira declared with pride. "Still not perfect, but with Sigvard's help, I'm hoping to get it battle-ready soon."
"Wow," Yukiko muttered, genuinely impressed.
"You're really smart," Mikage said.
"Please, you flatter me," Akira replied with a playful smirk.
"Got any other tricks in mind?" Mikage asked curiously.
Akira scratched his head. "Not really. Shadow Swap's been draining enough. Let me master this first before I start trying something new."
Back in the crimson world, Charles walked the dark, red-stained streets, his cloak swaying behind him as he scanned the crowds. "Where did that woman run off to?" he muttered under his breath, irritation flickering in his eyes.
Suddenly, he bumped shoulders with someone. He turned to apologize—only for his words to catch in his throat.
Xavier.
The Right Horn of Dracula.
"Ah, it's you. Charles, right?" Xavier said casually, his voice smooth. "What a coincidence, running into you here."
Charles took a moment to compose himself. "Y-Yeah... quite the surprise."
Xavier smiled faintly and gestured ahead. "Come. Let's have a little chat. You don't look particularly busy."
Without waiting for a reply, Xavier led the way to a bench tucked beneath a flickering streetlamp. They sat, surrounded by the quiet hum of the blood-soaked city.
"I see the blood I gave you has worked wonders," Xavier began. "You're even close to my level now."
Charles tilted his head, expression unreadable. "Do you enjoy lying?"
Xavier blinked. "What do you mean? Are you saying the blood didn't boost your power?"
"Oh, it did," Charles said, his tone sharper. "More than I ever imagined. But it also enhanced my perception—and now I see the truth."
Xavier's brow raised.
"You try very hard to suppress your power, Xavier," Charles continued. "But your mana—it flickers. And I can see just how vast it really is. I'm nowhere near your level, and you knew that."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Xavier chuckled. "You're more observant than I gave you credit for."
"High praise, coming from you," Charles replied.
A brief moment of mutual respect passed between them, broken only by Xavier's gaze shifting toward the sky. "The time of the Moon draws closer. Have you found a way to deal with Hellsing?"
"I have," Charles nodded. "I've deployed vampire forces across distant planets to keep him preoccupied. Far from Earth."
Xavier smirked. "Confident, aren't you?"
"I trust my plan," Charles replied, then paused. "But... I've been meaning to ask you something."
Xavier raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"You've known Dracula's been alive for some time now," Charles said, voice low. "And yet, you haven't tried to save him. Is it fear? Fear of Val Hellsing? Or is it something else... some kind of resentment?"
Xavier laughed under his breath. "Fear?" he echoed. "There are a few beings I fear in this universe—but Hellsing isn't one of them. If we fought... who knows what would happen? But no, I don't fear him."
He stood, brushing dust from his coat.
"And Dracula?" Charles pressed.
"I hold no hatred toward him," Xavier replied. "Only admiration. But I haven't tried to save him because of a curse. A powerful one. It's not time yet."
"A curse?" Charles muttered.
Xavier's expression turned serious. "Yes. And if you want your plan to succeed, Charles... you need to either harden your heart—or abandon your plan entirely and save him."
Before Charles could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind.
"Charles! There you are!"
He turned, spotting Rebecca jogging toward him.
When he looked back... Xavier was gone.
Rebecca frowned. "You left me behind... were you with someone?"
Charles hesitated, Xavier's last words echoing in his mind. "No one. I was just... tired."
Back at the school, as the morning sun cast golden hues over the arena, the clash of metal rang sharply in the air.
Yukiko swung her katana in rapid arcs, her strikes fast and deliberate. Across from her, Trixie danced through each slash, parrying with strands of enchanted silk and weaving between attacks like a deadly ballerina. In one swift movement, she launched a sharp kick into Yukiko's abdomen, sending her sliding back across the training floor.
Before Yukiko could recover, Trixie was already airborne, aiming a dropkick at her. Yukiko narrowly evaded it, rolling aside, then retaliated by launching shards of ice. Trixie's silks deflected the incoming barrage as she threw and retracted her kunai with breathtaking precision.
One kunai grazed Yukiko's cheek, missing her head by inches. Reacting instantly, Yukiko slammed her palm onto the ground—ice spikes erupted from beneath, racing toward Trixie.
Unfazed, Trixie grinned and flipped backward, narrowly avoiding the spikes. But as she landed, she slipped on a patch of ice. Instinct took over—she dropped into a split, and the spikes rushed past her, missing by a hair's breadth.
From the edge of the arena, Akira watched with wide eyes.
"Those girls are cool as hell," he muttered.
Mikage cracked a grin. "Let's put on a show for them too."
He began rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. Akira smirked and bounced lightly on his heels before planting his feet.
"Come on then," he said, daring Mikage forward.
Mikage rushed at him, but in the blink of an eye, Akira vanished.
"What the—" Mikage's eyes darted right.
Akira appeared mid-swing, a punch aimed straight at Mikage's temple.Mikage caught the fist just in time with his right hand.
"That wasn't shadow step—that was raw speed," Mikage muttered.
He countered with his left, but Akira intercepted, gripping it tightly.
"You're the one in trouble now," Mikage said, his hand glowing red-hot with fire.
Darkness slithered up Akira's face like a parasite, hardening into a sharp, armor-like helmet. With a sharp pull, he yanked Mikage forward and slammed their heads together—BOOM—a mini shockwave blasted out as Mikage staggered back, dazed and slightly bloodied.
"Ah—damn! You good?" Akira asked, worried, seeing blood trail down Mikage's forehead.
"I'm fine. Happens all the time," Mikage replied, wiping the blood with his shirt and tossing it aside. "See? Already stopped."
Akira breathed a sigh of relief.
Mikage grinned, fire engulfing his hand. "Let's keep going."
Akira raised his arm. Shadows crawled over his hand, chest, and face, forming a jagged, parasitic armor with a segmented spine trailing down his back.
"My pleasure," he replied.
Mikage blinked. "What's with the get-up?"
"You'll find out," Akira smirked.
They charged at each other—fists collided. Mikage's flames split at impact, veering left and right.
"It's… negating my fire?" he realized.
Akira's smirk deepened. "This is gonna be fun."
Meanwhile… in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean
On a fishing boat rocking gently atop the waves, three men groaned as they hauled in their catch.
Except… it wasn't fish.
An iron coffin, crusted with age and covered in glowing magical paraglyphs, slammed onto the deck.
"Damn it—not another piece of junk," one fisherman muttered.
"Just toss it back in the water," the second one replied, already turning away.
The third man leaned in, eyeing the glyphs. "Wait...this might be worth something. Could be from some ancient king or pirate. Museums pay big for artifacts like this."
"How much are we talkin'?" the first one asked.
"Hundred grand? Maybe more."
That got their attention. All three laughed.
"Let's cash this hunk of metal," the second one said, slapping the side of the coffin with a loud clang.
They kept laughing… unaware of the dark mana beginning to leak from the edges of the seal.