Balat District, Istanbul — 4:12 A.M.
The morning wind sliced through the narrow arteries of Balat — a forgotten quarter of Istanbul, crumbling under the weight of time. The buildings stood like weathered sentinels, their windows shuttered, their walls cracked and cloaked in moss.
Nothing here was alive except for memory. And her.
La Reyna's heels clicked softly against the ancient stone, a whisper in the silence. She walked with purpose, yet carried the fatigue of someone who hadn't rested in years — not in her bones, not in her soul.
She stopped before a fractured wall, its surface damp and green with lichen. In her gloved hand, she held a letter — yellowed by age, softened by rain, and scarred by history.
The last letter from her father.
"If one day you must choose between living as yourself or dying in the name of your family… choose life. But live a life that fights."
Her father had written it in the final days before his death — days she hadn't known were final. The ink was smudged now, but she remembered every stroke, every curve of his pen. She remembered the sound of his voice reading it aloud beside a fire, thinking it was just another bedtime lesson. She hadn't known then that it was a farewell.
Her fingers trembled.
She did not cry. Not anymore. Paris had stolen those tears. Lyon had soaked them in blood.
But here… here in Istanbul, her silence was its own scream.
The wooden door behind her creaked open. Emir stepped into the cold light of dawn — tall, steady, and haunted in the same way she was. The scar under his right eye looked deeper in this light.
"I didn't think you'd actually come," he said, his voice catching in the mist.
Reyna didn't turn to him. She reached into her coat and pulled out a small, black key — forged from obsidian and etched with the coiling form of a serpent.
She placed it gently into his palm.
"The Vault… it doesn't just belong to my family. It belongs to every drop of blood that's ever been betrayed."_
Emir stared at the key like it might bite him. "This… this is the Mark of the First Seal."
Reyna nodded.
He looked up, eyes searching hers. "And you're sure we have time before they track us?"
She finally turned, her gaze cast eastward. The sky had begun to lighten, the edges of the Bosphorus glowing orange with the approach of dawn.
"No,"_ she said. "But I didn't come to hide anymore."
Lyon — Blood Council Hall
The ritual pool gleamed beneath an arched ceiling of bone and obsidian. Red liquid shimmered, not water — blood. Alive. Ancient.
Maeryss stood at its edge, draped in a gown woven from shadows. Her silver hair flowed behind her like a veil of smoke. Her fingers danced over the surface of the pool, coaxing it to reveal the face of the one who defied them.
La Reyna.
"She's alive," Maeryss whispered. "And she's getting closer."
Behind her, in the gloom of the chamber, the Council stirred. One of them — the eldest, blind and voiceless by choice — carved a sigil into the air with a finger dipped in inked ash.
"She must not reach the Vault," another murmured. "Should we awaken Lorran?"
Maeryss tilted her head. Her lips curled into something between a smile and a curse.
"Let her open the door,"_ she said coldly. "What waits inside… will do what we no longer can."
Balat — 4:59 A.M.
Reyna and Emir moved deeper into the ruins of Balat — into the underbelly of the forgotten.
They stopped at an alley where the cobblestones had cracked open to reveal a hidden stairwell, veiled by a cart and vines. Emir knelt beside the entrance, pressing his hand against the stone slab at its center. The mark lit up, sensing bloodline resonance.
With a hiss and a groan, the stones shifted, revealing a stairway spiraling into the earth.
The air grew colder with every step. Moisture clung to the walls like breath from the dead. Torches lined the path, unlit for decades, maybe centuries.
Emir struck flint to stone. One by one, the flames awakened — and the wall paintings came alive.
Symbols of blood magic. Of judgment. Of vengeance.
Somewhere in the dark, a voice whispered in a forgotten tongue. Not a ghost. A warning.
La Reyna stepped forward. Her breath caught as she saw it — etched across the floor of the great chamber:
The crest of House El'Raez — twin blades crossing over a flame, surrounded by chains.
She knelt, pressing her palm against the sigil.
"Father… I'm ready."_
The earth trembled beneath them.
Emir spun. "What did you just—"
From the center of the floor, stone began to shift. A platform rose slowly — a circular altar, its edge glowing with runes older than empire.
The Vault was awakening.
They stepped back as the altar rose to full height. From its core, a single pedestal emerged — and on it, a glass-like crystal began to pulse red.
And then—
BOOM!
The far end of the chamber erupted. Flames and dust exploded through the passage.
"Get down!" Emir shouted, pulling Reyna behind a column.
Stone shattered. Walls cracked. Smoke choked the air.
Footsteps echoed in the chaos — calm, measured. A silhouette stepped into view, tall and plated in armor blacker than night. His face was hidden beneath an iron mask shaped like a wolf.
"Blood traitor."_ The voice was low. Unnatural.
Reyna stood slowly. She didn't flinch. Not anymore.
"If you came to stop me…" she said, voice as cold as the walls around them. "You're too late."
The Vault sigil beneath her feet began to glow brighter. Her eyes matched its hue.
From the pedestal, the red crystal rose higher — rotating slowly in the air.
The armored figure raised a hand, summoning energy that crackled like lightning across his palm.
But before he could strike—
A second voice filled the room. Deep. Ancient.
"The blood has returned."_
Everyone froze.
The crystal pulsed — once, twice — then exploded with a burst of light.
A wind swept the chamber, though no air existed.
Runes flared along the walls. Chains broke from the altar. The chamber was no longer just stone and silence. It breathed. It watched.
And then — a name revealed itself on the face of the crystal, carved in impossible script:
'Requiem Primordius.'
Reyna's breath hitched. Her knees trembled — not from fear, but recognition.
She had seen this name before.
In a dream. In a vision. In the fire that had swallowed her home.
The masked figure took one step forward — then stopped, his hand shaking.
"What have you done…" he growled.
Reyna narrowed her eyes.
"I woke the truth."_
The Vault answered with a hum that made the walls bleed light.