the heart of the city, where the streets wound into a labyrinth of ancient stone and forgotten secrets, there existed a place untouched by time and light. It was a lair hidden deep beneath the surface, where even the bravest of souls dared not tread. The walls, cold and damp, seemed to absorb all sound, trapping it within an eternal silence. The air was thick with the scent of decay, a reminder of the countless lives that had been extinguished within these walls. It was here, in this forsaken place, that two men met under the cover of darkness.
The first man, younger in appearance, moved with the confidence of someone accustomed to navigating through shadows. His dark brown hair, carefully combed into a sharp undercut, framed a face that looked soft and youthful. Yet it also featured cold, calculating eyes. Clad entirely in black, he seemed almost a part of the darkness itself, a wraith made flesh. His crimson eyes, faintly glowing in the dim light, were fixed on the figure standing across from him—a figure who exuded power and an ageless malevolence.
The man before him was taller, his presence commanding in a way that went beyond mere physicality. His hair, white as freshly fallen snow, cascaded over his shoulders in thick, untamed waves. He wore the garb of a bygone era—an ornate, old-fashioned noble attire that was covered by a heavy furred coat. The weight of centuries clung to him like a second skin, each movement deliberate, each word carefully chosen. His crimson eyes gleamed with a cold, predatory hunger as he regarded the younger man. This was no mere man—this was a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, a creature whose very existence was tied to the shadows.
"Sir Vlov," the younger man began, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. There was a note of deference in his tone, but also a calculated precision. He knew who he was speaking to—a predator among predators, a being whose very name struck fear into the hearts of those who whispered it in the dark. "The time has come. The White Princess has been weakened. Her head... it's ready to be taken."
For a moment, Vlov remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the news. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face, revealing a set of sharp, predatory teeth. "So, the White Princess falls," he murmured, his voice thick with a Russian accent that spoke of ancient lands and frozen winters. "My familiars have already located her," he continued, his tone one of casual confidence, as though discussing the capture of a mere animal. "As soon as the sun sets, I will claim her head."
The younger man nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. This was what he had hoped for—the confirmation that the plan was moving forward, that their target was within reach. "With Arcueid's heart in your hands, Sir Vlov, the Serpent will be powerless. I will serve him to you on a silver platter, as we agreed."
Vlov's grin widened, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. He took a step forward, his gaze boring into the younger man with an intensity that made the air between them crackle with tension. "You speak as if the outcome is already certain, boy," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But do not forget your place."
The younger man's eyes flickered, but he did not flinch. He knew the stakes, knew the kind of man—no, the kind of monster—he was dealing with. Vlov was not one to tolerate failure or disobedience. "I have not forgotten, Sir Vlov," he replied, his voice steady, though there was a trace of unease in his eyes. "I am fully aware of my status. But rest assured, I will keep my word. The Serpent will be yours."
Vlov's expression darkened, and for a moment, the air grew colder, as if the very life was being sucked from the room. "See that you do," Vlov hissed, his voice dropping to a near growl. "For if you do not, if you fail me in this... I will tear out your heart with my own hands and feed it to the wolves." His eyes burned with a cruel light, and the promise of death lingered in the air between them like a tangible thing.
The younger man swallowed, a bead of sweat forming on his brow despite the chill in the air. He had known the risks when he had entered into this pact, known that failure would mean a fate far worse than death. But ambition had driven him here, and now there was no turning back. "I won't fail, Sir Vlov," he vowed, his voice firm despite the growing dread in his chest. "By this time tomorrow, the White Princess will be nothing more than a memory, and the Serpent will be within your grasp."
Vlov studied him for a moment longer, as if weighing the truth of his words. Then, with a curt nod, he turned away, his furred coat billowing behind him like the wings of some great, dark bird. "Very well," he said, his voice carrying an air of finality. "You may go. But remember this—there is no escape from our agreement. You belong to me now, body and soul. Fail, and you will beg for death long before it comes."
The younger man bowed deeply, his heart pounding in his chest. "I understand, Sir Vlov. I won't let you down."
Without another word, Vlov disappeared into the shadows, his form melting away into the darkness as if he had never been there at all. The younger man remained standing in the middle of the room, the silence pressing in around him like a vice. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had made his choice, and now all that was left was to see it through.
As he turned to leave the lair, his mind raced with the possibilities that lay ahead. The thought of Arcueid, the White Princess, brought a strange mix of fear and excitement. She was powerful, more powerful than anything he had ever encountered, but she was also vulnerable now, weakened by battles he could only guess at. And if Vlov succeeded, if they brought her down—then the path to power would be wide open.
But there was also Roa, the Serpent of Akasha, lurking in the back of his mind. He was a wildcard, a being as unpredictable as he was dangerous. Would he truly be able to serve Roa up on a silver platter as he had promised? Or was he simply setting himself up for a fall?
He pushed the thoughts aside, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. There would be time to worry about Roa later. For now, his only concern was ensuring that Vlov got what he wanted. Because if he didn't... The younger man shuddered, the memory of Vlov's threat still fresh in his mind. Failure was not an option.
As he stepped out into the night, the cold air biting at his skin, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking a tightrope, one that could snap at any moment. The game he was playing was a dangerous one, and the stakes were higher than he had ever imagined. But there was no turning back now. The die had been cast, and all he could do was move forward, one step at a time, and hope that when the time came, he would be the one left standing.
And so, with a final glance back at the lair, he disappeared into the shadows, his mind already plotting his next move. The city sprawled out before him, a vast and treacherous landscape filled with dangers both seen and unseen. But he would navigate it, just as he had always done, with cunning and determination. For in this world of darkness, only the strongest survived. And he intended to be among them, no matter the cost.
Interlude – 01 EndThe city lights shimmered in the distance as Shiki followed Arcueid through the winding streets, his mind a swirl of confusion and uncertainty. The events of the night had unraveled any semblance of normalcy in his life, leaving him adrift in a world he barely recognized. Arcueid, the mysterious vampire who had spared his life, walked ahead of him with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her golden hair catching the glow of the streetlights as they moved further into the heart of the city.
Shiki's steps were hesitant, his thoughts a chaotic mess as he tried to piece together everything that had happened. He knew he should be running away, fleeing from this strange woman and the danger that seemed to follow her like a shadow. But something kept him tethered to her, a sense of curiosity, perhaps, or maybe it was the sheer impossibility of the situation that held him in place.
They arrived at a towering hotel, its glass facade reflecting the vibrant lights of the city below. It was the kind of place Shiki had only seen in movies, where the rich and powerful came to bask in luxury. He glanced at Arcueid, wondering how she had managed to secure such a place, but her expression was unreadable as she led him inside.
The lobby was a vast expanse of marble and gold, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling like clusters of stars. Arcueid barely acknowledged the staff as she made her way to the elevator, her presence commanding attention without a word. Shiki trailed behind her, feeling increasingly out of place in his school uniform, but unable to turn back now.
Once inside the elevator, Arcueid pressed a button that took them straight to the top floor. The silence between them was thick with unspoken questions, but Shiki found himself unable to break it. Instead, he studied her from the corner of his eye, trying to make sense of the enigma that was Arcueid.
She was unlike anyone he had ever met, with an air of otherworldliness that set her apart from the mundane world he was used to. There was a grace to her movements, a confidence that came from knowing she was stronger, faster, and more powerful than anyone else around her. Yet there was also something vulnerable about her, something that made Shiki feel an odd sense of responsibility toward her, despite the danger she represented.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and they stepped out into a luxurious hallway lined with doors. At the far end was a pair of double doors, which Arcueid pushed open to reveal a sprawling suite that occupied the entire top floor of the hotel.
Shiki's breath caught in his throat as he took in the opulence of the room. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, the lights stretching out like a sea of stars beneath them. The furnishings were modern and elegant, with plush sofas, a grand piano, and a dining table that could seat a dozen people. It was the kind of place that felt more like a palace than a hotel room.
Arcueid walked in as if she owned the place, which, Shiki supposed, she might as well have. She tossed her coat onto a chair and turned to him with a smile that was equal parts playful and predatory. "Make yourself at home," she said, her voice light, as if they were just two friends spending the night together.
Shiki hovered near the entrance, feeling out of place in the lavish surroundings. "You rented out the entire floor?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Arcueid nodded, her expression turning slightly more serious. "I needed a safe place to stay, and I don't like having neighbors." She glanced at him, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn't quite identify. "Besides, it's not like money is an issue for me."
Shiki didn't doubt that. He could only imagine the kind of wealth someone like Arcueid would have accumulated over the centuries. Still, the sheer extravagance of it all was overwhelming. He found himself wondering just what kind of life she led when she wasn't hunting vampires or dealing with people like him.
"Why did you bring me here?" Shiki asked, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.
Arcueid tilted her head, considering him for a moment. "Because I find you interesting," she said simply, as if that was reason enough. "And because I need someone to watch over me while I sleep."
Shiki blinked, taken aback by the casual way she said it. "Watch over you? Why would you need someone to do that?"
A faint smile touched her lips, but there was something serious in her eyes. "Even I'm not invincible, Shiki. While I sleep, I'm vulnerable. It's a risk, but I trust you enough to let my guard down."
Shiki didn't know what to say to that. The idea of this powerful, immortal being needing protection was almost laughable, yet the way she said it made him realize just how much she was trusting him in that moment.
"Or maybe," she added, her smile turning mischievous, "I just want to see if you'll run away while I'm asleep."
He couldn't help but smile at that, the tension easing slightly. "And what if I do?"
"Then I'll find you," she said with a shrug, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "But I don't think you will. You're too curious for that."
Shiki wasn't sure if she was right, but something about the way she said it made him want to stay, if only to prove her wrong.
Arcueid walked over to one of the sofas and stretched out on it, her movements languid and unhurried. "I'm going to sleep now," she announced, as if they were done discussing the matter. "Feel free to do whatever you want—explore the suite, order room service, whatever."
Shiki stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Part of him still wanted to run, to put as much distance between himself and this strange, dangerous woman as possible. But another part of him, the part that had been drawn to her from the moment they met, kept him rooted to the spot.
Arcueid's breathing slowed, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifted off to sleep. Shiki watched her for a moment, marveling at how peaceful she looked. She was beautiful, in a way that seemed almost unreal—like a statue carved by a master artist, flawless and timeless. Her golden hair spilled over the sofa like liquid gold, and her pale skin seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.
For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt for thinking about running away. Here she was, completely defenseless, trusting him to watch over her while she slept. The thought of betraying that trust made him feel uneasy, as if he would be breaking some unspoken pact between them.
He sighed and pulled out his phone, the bright screen a harsh contrast to the dim lighting of the suite. It was late—too late for a normal school night. He quickly typed out a message to Arihiko, his best friend, explaining that he wasn't feeling well and would be skipping school the next day. The lie came easily, though a part of him wondered if Arihiko would see through it. But there was no helping it now; his life had taken a turn that was anything but normal.
With that done, he set his phone aside and sat down on the sofa opposite Arcueid. He watched her for a while, his thoughts drifting as he took in the quiet rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. There was something almost surreal about the scene, as if he had stepped into a dream he couldn't wake up from.
But it wasn't long before his own exhaustion caught up with him. The events of the day had drained him more than he realized, and soon his eyelids grew heavy. He fought against sleep, telling himself that he needed to stay awake, that he had promised to watch over her. But the sofa was soft, and the room was warm, and before he knew it, his eyes slipped shut.
...
In his dreams, the world was awash in shades of red. He was a child again, small and afraid, his hands trembling as he stared at the scene before him. His sister was crying, her voice a distant wail that echoed through the haze of his mind. Shiki looked down at his hands, his small, innocent hands, only to find them stained with blood. It was warm, sticky, and it clung to his skin like a second layer. He looked up, and there, lying at his feet, was another boy, lifeless and cold.
A surge of panic shot through him as he realized what he had done. The boy's eyes were open, staring up at him with a look of shock and fear, frozen in the moment of death. And it was all his fault. He had done this. The weight of that realization pressed down on him, suffocating him, drowning him in a sea of guilt and shame.
He wanted to scream, to cry out for someone to help him, but no sound came. The world around him twisted and warped, the colors bleeding together until everything was a blur. His sister's cries grew louder, more desperate, but he couldn't reach her. He was trapped in this nightmare, with no way out.
Then, suddenly, he was falling—falling into darkness, the world disappearing around him as he plummeted into the void. And just when he thought he would be swallowed whole, a voice called out to him, pulling him back to reality.
...Shiki!"
His eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest as he jolted upright. The dream clung to him like a shroud, the images of blood and death still vivid in his mind. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, disoriented by the sudden shift from nightmare to waking world.
But then he saw her—Arcueid, standing over him with a mildly annoyed expression on her face. She was very much awake, and very much alive, her eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of amusement and exasperation.
"You were supposed to watch over me," she said, her tone lightly scolding. "Not fall asleep on the job."
Shiki blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of his dream. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I didn't mean to..."
Arcueid sighed, her expression softening as she looked at him. "It's fine. You looked like you needed the rest anyway." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze curious. "Bad dream?"
Shiki hesitated, the images of his dream still fresh in his mind. He wasn't sure how to explain it to her—or if he even wanted to. But something about the way she looked at him, with a kind of quiet understanding, made him feel like he didn't have to say anything at all.
"Yeah," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just a bad dream."
Arcueid nodded, as if she knew there was more to it than that, but didn't press the issue. Instead, she took a step back, giving him space to collect himself. "Well, you're awake now," she said, her tone more upbeat. "So, what do you want to do? It's still early."
Shiki glanced at the clock—it was 6pm, the rays of sunset beginning to filter through the windows. He still felt the weight of his dream hanging over him, but being awake, with Arcueid standing there in front of him, made it easier to push it aside.
Shiki's head was spinning. The day had unfolded in ways he could never have imagined, dragging him deeper into a world that was both terrifying and utterly surreal. The city bathed in the orange glow of the sunset as the early hours of the night slowly crept by. But inside the hotel suite, the atmosphere was thick with tension and unanswered questions.
Arcueid stood by the window, her golden hair catching the faint light as she stared out at the city below. There was a contemplative look on her face, as if she were considering something deeply. Shiki sat on the sofa, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened. He wasn't sure where to begin, how to make sense of the chaos that had upended his life.
Finally, he couldn't keep the questions at bay any longer. "Arcueid," he began hesitantly, "I... I don't really understand what's going on. Vampires, transforming animals, puppets... It's all just too much."
Arcueid turned to face him, her expression softening slightly as she saw the confusion in his eyes. She crossed the room and sat down in the armchair opposite him, her posture relaxed but her gaze focused. "I suppose I owe you an explanation," she said, her voice calm. "It's not surprising that you're confused. You've been thrust into a world that most people never even realize exists."
Shiki nodded, feeling a little more at ease now that she seemed willing to explain things. "So, what exactly is going on? Who are these vampires and what exactly are we up against?"
Arcueid leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap as she began to speak. "Vampires, as most people think of them, are a myth—legends created to explain things that are beyond human understanding. But there is some truth to those myths. In reality, there are two main types of vampires: True Ancestors and Dead Apostles."
"True Ancestors," she continued, "are what I am. We are natural vampires, beings born from the earth itself, created to act as guardians of the planet. We are powerful, immortal, and inherently connected to the natural world. Unlike the vampires of myth, we do not need to drink blood to survive, though we can if we choose to."
Shiki frowned, trying to process what she was saying. "So, you don't have to drink blood?"
Arcueid shook her head. "No. But for some of us, the desire is still there, a lingering instinct that can be difficult to control. That's part of the reason why I don't stay around humans for too long—it's too tempting."
Shiki swallowed, feeling a shiver run down his spine. The idea that Arcueid might one day give in to that temptation made him uneasy, though he tried not to show it. "And what about Dead Apostles?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from that unsettling thought.
"Dead Apostles," Arcueid said, her tone growing more serious, "are not born like True Ancestors. They are created, either through magecraft or by being turned by another vampire. Unlike True Ancestors, they need to drink blood to survive, and their powers come from the curse that has been passed down to them."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "The vampire currently attacking the city is a Dead Apostle. They are dangerous, unpredictable, and often driven by a thirst for power that knows no bounds."
Arcueid sighed and elaborated on her explanations. "Dead Apostles are categorized into ranks based on their abilities and how far they've progressed in their transformation. The higher the rank, the more dangerous the vampire."
She began to explain, her voice steady as she laid out the details:
"Rank I: Corpse." Arcueid's voice was almost clinical as she spoke. "This is the lowest rank, a dead body reanimated by the blood of its sire. It has no will of its own, no mind, just a puppet dancing to the tune of its creator."
Shiki shuddered at the thought. He had seen things like that in horror movies, but the idea that they could be real—walking, moving corpses—made his skin crawl.
"Rank II: Ghoul." Arcueid continued, her eyes darkening slightly. "A Ghoul is a corpse that mimics the form it had in life. It has a will, but it's mindless, unable to form coherent thoughts. It's like a zombie, driven only by the basest of instincts."
"Rank III: Undead." Her tone grew more intense, as if she were recounting something deeply personal. "An Undead is a living corpse, not fully restored to life, but capable of understanding what it has become. It can simulate a human lifestyle, but it lacks its sense of pain and taste. It's a soldier, its brain reconstructed after death to serve its sire."
Shiki tried to imagine what that would be like—being dead, yet aware, following the orders of a creature that had turned you into something monstrous. It was too horrible to fully grasp.
"Rank IV: Nightkin." Arcueid's voice softened, a hint of sadness creeping in. "A Nightkin is a fledgling vampire that still maintains its original personality. At this rank, the creature truly becomes a vampire, with inhuman physical abilities. But those abilities come at a cost—extreme coldness and an insatiable thirst for blood."
She paused, looking at Shiki as if to gauge his reaction. "If a Dead Apostle of Rank VI or higher carefully drinks the blood of their prey, the victim starts out as a Nightkin. They can survive in sunlight, though it weakens them."
Shiki found himself staring at her, trying to reconcile the image of the cold, bloodthirsty vampire she described with the woman sitting in front of him. It was difficult, almost impossible.
"Rank V: Nightmare." Arcueid's voice dropped to a near whisper, as if speaking the word could summon the creature itself. "At this rank, the curse within the vampire's blood allows them to manifest special powers. These abilities can be inherited from their sire or arise from their own unique nature. They become high-ranking knights in the service of their creator, still under the watch of a fully fledged vampire."
Shiki felt a knot forming in his stomach. The more she explained, the more he realized just how out of his depth he was. These weren't just monsters—they were beings with power and intelligence, creatures that could think, plan, and kill with terrifying efficiency.
"Rank VI: Dead Apostle (Castellan)." Arcueid's voice was firm, authoritative, as if she were describing a law of nature. "This is the final stage, where the vampire becomes completely self-sufficient. They are bloodsuckers in every sense of the word, capable of creating their own children through bloodsucking incursions. But they cannot create a child that exceeds Rank VI. Only one out of ten thousand fledglings can reach this rank."
Shiki sat in stunned silence, trying to absorb the flood of information. The room felt colder, the air heavier, as the weight of what he had just learned settled over him. He had stepped into a world of nightmares, a world where creatures of legend walked the earth, hidden in the shadows but no less real.
Arcueid watched him, her gaze steady and unyielding. "It's a lot to take in," she said gently, acknowledging the turmoil she could see in his eyes.
"Yeah," Shiki murmured, running a hand through his hair. "You could say that." He paused, staring at the floor as he tried to make sense of everything. "So... the vampire attacking the city. What rank is it?"
Arcueid's expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through her eyes. "I believe it's a Dead Apostle of Rank VI. A fully-fledged vampire, capable of causing untold destruction if left unchecked."
Shiki swallowed hard. "And you're supposed to stop it?"
"Yes," she said simply. "That's why I'm here."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken fears. Shiki could feel the gravity of the situation pressing down on him, the realization that this wasn't just some abstract danger. It was real, and it was happening right now, in the city he called home.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked quietly, looking up at her with a mixture of confusion and desperation. "I'm just... I'm just a normal guy. I don't know how to fight something like this."
Arcueid's gaze softened, and for the first time, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "You're not supposed to fight," she said gently. "I'll handle that. But I need your help, Shiki. You have a unique ability—something that can help me track down this vampire and stop it before it's too late."
Shiki frowned, trying to remember what his Sensei had said about his ability. The power to see the future, so to say. It was something he had never fully understood, something he had always tried to ignore. But now, it seemed, he had no choice but to confront it.
"I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.
Arcueid reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was surprisingly warm, comforting in a way that made him feel less alone in this nightmare. "You don't have to do this alone," she said softly. "I'll be with you every step of the way. Together, we can stop this."
Shiki looked into her eyes, seeing the determination there, the quiet strength that had carried her through centuries of existence. For a moment, he felt a flicker of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, they could pull this off.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice steadying as he made his decision. "I'll help you."
Arcueid smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made her seem almost human. "Thank you, Shiki."
As they sat together in the quiet of the hotel room, the city slowly waking up outside, Shiki couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just changed forever. He was stepping into a world he didn't understand, a world of darkness and danger, but also one where he could make a difference.
And as daunting as that was, he knew one thing for sure: there was no turning back now.
...
The city was silent, wrapped in the thick, velvety darkness of night. High above, the moon cast its silver light through the windows of the hotel suite, illuminating the room where Shiki and Arcueid sat. The air between them was heavy with the unspoken, a delicate balance between the monstrous and the human.
Arcueid's earlier reassurance lingered in the air, a balm to the storm of thoughts swirling in Shiki's mind. But the weight of the situation pressed down on him, an ever-present reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. He was no warrior, no hero—just a boy thrust into a world he barely understood, standing on the precipice of something far greater than himself.
Arcueid studied him for a moment, her crimson eyes sharp and perceptive. She could see the fear in him, the uncertainty, and it wasn't something she could dismiss lightly. "You're thinking about what happens next, aren't you?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Shiki nodded slowly. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I'm really going to face a vampire... what should I be ready for? What should I watch out for?"
Arcueid leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. She had been in this world for centuries, had faced countless threats and challenges, and now she had to convey that experience to someone who had only just been introduced to the darkness. "There are a few things you need to know," she began, her tone serious. "Vampires, especially Dead Apostles, are not like anything you've ever faced before. They're powerful, cunning, and ruthless."
Shiki swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in his throat. The gravity of what he was about to learn made his palms sweat, but he forced himself to listen, to absorb every word.
"First," Arcueid continued, "vampires often use familiars—animals that they've corrupted and bound to their will. Most vampires have around three familiars, usually animals that can easily blend into the environment. They use these creatures for reconnaissance, hunting, and sometimes even to deliver a killing blow."
Shiki frowned, trying to imagine what that would look like. "So, if I see an animal acting strangely...?"
"Assume it's a familiar," Arcueid said, her voice firm. "And be ready to defend yourself. These creatures can be relentless, and they're much more dangerous than they appear."
He nodded, making a mental note to be wary of anything that seemed out of place. But there was more to this, he could feel it. "What else?"
Arcueid's expression darkened, and she leaned forward slightly, as if to emphasize her next point. "Vampires possess the Mystic Eyes of Enchantment. These eyes allow them to sway people to their will, to bend thoughts and emotions to their advantage. A single glance from them can make you forget why you were afraid, why you were fighting. It's one of their most dangerous abilities."
Shiki's breath hitched. He had heard of hypnotism, of mind control in stories and movies, but this was something else entirely. The idea that a vampire could control him with just a look sent chills down his spine. "How do I resist that?"
"You have to stay focused," Arcueid replied, her voice edged with urgency. "Trust your instincts, your gut feelings. Don't let them take hold of your mind. It's not easy, but if you keep your wits about you, you might be able to resist. And remember, they're fast—faster than any human."
Shiki's heart pounded in his chest. This was more than he had bargained for, but he couldn't back down now. "How fast are we talking?"
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of Arcueid's lips. "A Dead Apostle can move faster than a bullet fired from a gun. They're stronger too—capable of generating up to fifty tons of force with a single blow."
Shiki's eyes widened in shock. Fifty tons? He couldn't even begin to comprehend that kind of strength. It was like facing a living force of nature, something unstoppable. "That's... that's insane," he murmured.
Arcueid's smile widened, but there was a hint of pride in her eyes as well. "You think that's impressive? That's nothing compared to what I can do." She straightened, her voice taking on a note of confidence that was almost playful. "I can generate up to a hundred tons of force with one punch. Dead Apostles are children compared to me, Shiki. They may be strong, but I am a True Ancestor. I'm on an entirely different level."
For a moment, Shiki was struck by the sheer magnitude of what she was saying. He had seen glimpses of her power, had felt the force of her presence, but to hear it laid out so plainly made him realize just how far beyond human she really was. And yet, here she was, speaking to him as if they were equals—an immortal vampire, and a mortal boy.
But then, her expression shifted. A shadow crossed her face, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced at him with something that resembled disdain. "At least, I would be, if a certain maniac hadn't killed me."
Shiki flinched at the accusation in her voice. He knew she was referring to him, to the moment when he had somehow, inexplicably, taken her life. The memory of that night was still a blur, a nightmarish jumble of fear and violence. He had acted on instinct, on a primal urge he didn't understand, and it had led to this—sitting in a hotel room with the very creature he had thought he destroyed.