Not long after Selene and Lucian left the scene, Reuel arrived at the battlefield. His eyes swept over the area, ensuring everything was truly secure. When he saw Selene safe before disappearing into the distance, his expression briefly softened. But it only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly sharpened again as he looked down at Viktor's lifeless body.
Without many words, Reuel issued a firm command.
"Collect all the vampire and Lycan corpses. Send them to the lab. For research."
The Terran Marines immediately sprang into action. They lifted the scattered bodies and loaded them into the medivac. Overhead, several Viking units in ground mode maintained perimeter security, ensuring there were no outside disturbances.
Reuel then stepped closer to Viktor's corpse. His goal was clear: recover the remaining biological matter from both vampire and Lycan, and-more importantly-activate the check-in system at Viktor's death site.
A long-dormant system suddenly came to life.
Ding!
Host has arrived at the registration point beside Viktor's corpse. Would the host like to check in?
"Check-in."
Ding!
Congratulations, host. You have acquired 10,000 copies of the Captain America Super Soldier Serum from the Marvel Universe (mainstream version).
Reuel froze.
"What? Did I hear that right? Captain America's serum from Marvel? How's that different from the T-Virus from Resident Evil?"
Ding!
The T-Virus and the Super Soldier Serum are two fundamentally different biological enhancement systems.
The Captain America Super Soldier Serum enhances physical strength, stamina, reflexes, healing ability, and durability to the peak of normal human limits. The technology was not fully mature in its time but remains stable. It does not cause extreme bodily mutation.
Reuel narrowed his eyes. "Then... can it be used together with the T-Virus?"
Ding!
No. Simultaneous use without a genetic stabilizer will cause DNA structure collapse and trigger uncontrollable mutation.
Ding!
The T-Virus, originally developed by the Umbrella Corporation, was designed as a base for Bio-Organic Weapons (B.O.W.) for military and commercial use. Its main goal: to create super soldiers that could be controlled and strike from within via infection. However, the majority of subjects ended up as zombies or mutants like Tyrant and Nemesis. Only a few retained their physical form and consciousness, such as Albert Wesker.
Reuel frowned, clearly unsatisfied. "But you gave me the perfected T-Virus before. Isn't that contradictory?"
Ding!
The T-Virus and Super Soldier Serum referred to as "perfect" by the system are ideal forms derived from the collective perception of humanity before the host transmigrated-through games, comics, films, and other fictional media. The system references all media believed to represent the best versions.
"So, you're saying... these serums can still be improved?" Reuel asked seriously.
Ding!
Enhancement levels are available. However, it requires advanced knowledge, high-grade genetic stabilizers, and a cross-universe synthesis platform.
Ding!
Theoretically possible. However, if the experiment fails, the result could create a monster so horrific-even the system cannot fathom it. After all, the host now lives in the real world... not in fiction.
Reuel fell silent.
That sentence echoed in his mind.
A monster even the system can't imagine? What the hell does that mean?
His eyes narrowed.
"Hey, System! Explain what you meant by that!"
Ding!
The host must discover it for himself.
Damn it...
Once again, the system was dodging him.
Reuel clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. But he didn't give up. He tried another angle.
"Fine. Then tell me one thing-why are Terran Marines so huge? Did they also use some kind of serum?"
Ding!
The host's question... is partially correct, and partially incorrect.
"What do you mean?"
Ding!
Host: Terran Marines are not mere ordinary soldiers.
They undergo a series of brutal body augmentations-far beyond the limits of humanity.
It begins with Muscle Weave Enhancements-artificial reinforcement of muscle tissue to vastly increase strength and endurance beyond standard human levels.
Next, their bones are fortified with Synthetic Bone Lacing-military-grade polymer coatings that absorb extreme impacts without cracking.
Then, their nervous systems are modified with Cybernetic Reflex Accelerators-neural implants that boost reflex response times to near-instant levels.
And to keep them fighting even under critical conditions, Pain Dulling Chips are installed-nerve-suppressing devices that disable the sensation of pain entirely.
The result?
Total transformation.
An ordinary human turned into a living war machine.
Synthetic muscle mass fused with high technology.
A semi-biological entity... created for one purpose only: war.
Reuel nodded slowly, beginning to grasp the truth.
"So... the Stimpack-does it work like the Super Soldier Serum or the T-Virus?"
Ding!
No, Host.
Stimpack is a military-grade chemical cocktail.
It's injected directly into the body of a Marine, Firebat, or other Terran combat unit.
The effect is instantaneous-dramatically boosting strength, speed, and combat aggression.
But be warned.
The system's tone shifted-more serious, more somber.
The majority of Terran Marines are convicts.
Forcibly recruited by the Confederacy or the Dominion.
They had no choice.
Their bodies were altered without consent.
Often without even being told.
Their identities erased.
Their names deleted.
They are no longer human.
They are military property.
Stimpacks do grant a terrifying edge in combat.
But the side effects are lethal.
Repeated use causes nerve and muscle degradation.
The Marine's body slowly burns itself from within.
They become addicted-keep injecting even when their body can no longer handle it.
The psychological toll is worse: paranoia, uncontrollable rage, even complete madness.
Reuel stood there, silent for a moment, trying to process the bitter truth behind the terrifying strength of the troops he once viewed as invincible symbols of power.
Reuel was finally starting to understand-combat units from the StarCraft universe weren't symbols of military glory forged through patriotism or honor. They were the result of systematic suffering, genetic engineering, and the slow erasure of humanity. No wonder a beautiful woman named Nova once said, with a cynical tone, that Terran Marines who used stim too often were:
"Walking corpses with big guns."
Reuel frowned slightly, then muttered to himself-just loud enough for the system to hear.
"So... what if I tried combining them all? Super soldier tech from different universes-Warhammer, StarCraft, even the T-Virus?"
Half question, half dream.
The temptation to create the ultimate lifeform was beginning to tickle the pragmatic side of his mind.
Ding!
The Host can certainly attempt it, said the system-its tone flat as always, but something hidden lurked beneath the surface.
In theory, such technologies can be integrated. However, as stated earlier, the likelihood of producing uncontrollable results is extremely high. An entity that reality itself may not recognize.
System recommendation:
Do not proceed with this experiment... unless the Host can recruit mad scientists from various major franchises-those who live and breathe on the edge of logic and destruction.
The system paused briefly before continuing-its tone heavier now, sharper, more direct:
"The Host does indeed possess immense potential."
"Especially after merging with the memories and knowledge of the Emperor of Mankind, and receiving full support from the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus. But... does the Host truly wish to repeat what happened in the original Warhammer universe?"
"Imagine... if the Chaos Gods caught wind of this experiment. Just one corrupted specimen-just one-could evolve into an entity even daemons would refuse to embrace. Something born of genius... and ruin."
Reuel fell silent.
In his mind, he saw the worst-case scenario: laboratories engulfed in flames, worlds devoured by Warp energies, and the shapeless laughter of Tzeentch tearing through the cracks of reality.
"Damn it... this system can't be baited with hypothetical questions."
He exhaled sharply, brushing aside the madness that had crept into his thoughts.
Maybe it really wasn't time yet.
His version of the Imperium of Man was still under construction. The infrastructure, doctrine, and oversight were nowhere near what he envisioned.
For now, that experiment would have to wait.
But that didn't mean he would grow complacent. Reuel still carried one particular concern.
"When I return to Terra Aeterna, I'll personally oversee all bio-tech experimentation activities."
His expression hardened.
"Especially those conducted by the Archmagos and the Adeptus Mechanicus... they're far too intelligent to be considered tame. And far too curious to be left unchecked."
He knew very well-in the original universe, those very Tech-Priests once tried to create the perfect human "Homo Novus" using genetic remnants of the Primarchs. "Fabius Bile Apothecary"
And they failed.
Brutally.
---
Author note
character: Belisarius Cawl is an Archmagos Dominus of the Adeptus Mechanicus-a genius (and controversial) figure responsible for the creation of the Primaris Space Marines.
Cawl never cloned the Primarchs, and he refused to create new ones-not because he couldn't, but because Roboute Guilliman explicitly forbade it. In fact, Cawl himself admitted he already had a working prototype, but chose to wait for official permission.
Though loyal to the Imperium, Cawl operates on the razor's edge between obedience and transgression. He explores technologies deemed heretical by Imperial doctrine-including remnants of the Men of Iron and ancient entities like the Void Dragon.
---
Reuel heard a commotion from the direction of the Terran Marines. The sound of hurried footsteps and short comm chatter made him turn his head. He immediately walked over.
Suddenly, a Marine officer raised his hand, signaling alert.
"Visual contact! Unknown target approaching from the west!" he shouted.
Instantly, weapons were raised. A combat formation was established within seconds. Reuel felt the presence-not an enemy, but a familiar entity. He stepped forward to the front line.
Moments later, from behind the rubble, a figure in full uniform emerged.
"Lord Reuel? You're here too?" greeted the figure-a captain from Alexander Corvinus' Cleaner unit.
He arrived with thirty-six soldiers, fully armed and moving in tight coordination. The captain immediately saluted, recognizing Reuel's status as Corvinus' strategic ally and primary technology supplier for their faction.
Reuel gave a short nod. His gaze swept across the Cleaner troops.
"Lower your weapons. Resume the evacuation," he ordered calmly but firmly.
"Yes, Lord Emperor," replied the Marine officer, signaling his unit.
The tension eased. The Marines resumed loading the bodies of vampires and Lycans into the medivacs, while the Cleaners took up defensive positions.
The Cleaner captain stepped closer to Reuel, standing at attention.
"Proceed with your tasks as usual. But as for Viktor... there's no need for you to handle him. Tell Alexander his body has been taken care of. I've already extracted the contents," Reuel said, expressionless.
"Understood, My Lord. I will report it," the Cleaner Captain responded quickly.
Without wasting time, the Cleaner unit activated Reuel's trace-erasure device-a sophisticated tool designed to eliminate all biological remnants and visual data from the battlefield. Bodies vanished, bloodstains were wiped clean, even soil deformation was microstructurally restored. Within minutes, the site looked as if nothing had ever happened.
Reuel scanned the now-clean battlefield, making sure nothing had been left behind. He then boarded one of the medivacs. The Marines followed, preparing to return to orbit.
Ten Banshee units and ten Vikings immediately formed an aerial escort formation around the convoy. In tight formation and with precise coordination, the fleet soared into the night sky-heading toward the Battlecruiser Imperium of Man, waiting in high orbit.
---
Vampire Grand House - Vampire Castle
The night sky loomed dark over the ancient castle, the stronghold of the vampires. Moss-covered stone walls and medieval chandeliers still emitted a faint bluish glow-a reflection of the power vacuum left behind after Viktor's fall.
Inside the main hall, Kraven sat brooding before a fireplace that was nearly out. Moments earlier, he had received important news: Viktor, the Elder, was dead. His body hadn't been found, but it was believed to have been destroyed during the battle against the Lycans. The guards who brought the report had anxious faces... but for Kraven, it was good news.
A faint smile slowly crept across his lips. Satisfaction. Satisfaction that had long been awaited.
"Viktor... that arrogant old bastard... you finally fell," Kraven muttered.
He had never intended to send elite troops to save Viktor. He'd only dispatched low-tier vampires-cannon fodder, expendable at any moment. And now, it was over. Viktor was dead. Selene had vanished. Lucian had disappeared to who-knows-where. The vampire world was fracturing.
Kraven stood and slowly walked toward the massive stone throne-the sacred seat that for centuries had only been occupied by the Elders. He stared at it for a long moment, then sat. The cold stone seemed to welcome him with the eternal emptiness of the ancestors. But Kraven remained unmoved.
"Only Marcus remains... let him stay asleep. There's no point waking him. Besides... who knows if the rumor is true," he said softly, almost as if talking to himself.
He bit his lower lip, uncertain. Though his ambition was great, Kraven knew awakening Marcus was a massive gamble. Legend had it that if an original vampire were to die... the entire vampire race would perish with him.
And Kraven wasn't ready to die.
But the next bit of news wiped the smile off his face. Lucian had gone missing-and that was not good news. As long as Lucian still breathed, the threat of the Lycans would never truly end. A decision had to be made.
"Soren!" Kraven barked.
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A loyal warrior stepped in, clad in black armor, standing tall with an expression that mixed respect and unease.
"Boss," Soren answered curtly.
"Find that werewolf. Track their trail. I want them dead... before dawn," Kraven ordered sharply.
"Understood, Boss," Soren replied.
Without another word, Soren bowed respectfully and left. His footsteps echoed down the cold stone floor.
Kraven stared at the now-closed door. He leaned back into the stone throne that once belonged to Viktor, his hand resting on the ancient vampire emblem carved into the armrest. His lips curled-and a laugh escaped his mouth. A deep, quiet, then wild laugh.
"Ha... ha... ha... hahahaha...!"
The fading firelight danced across the stone walls, casting shadows like ghosts of the past. His laughter echoed like a curse, stirring old spirits from their slumber.
The throne was his now.
At least... for tonight.
---
Battlecruiser Flagship - Main Hangar
The medivac convoy, escorted by Banshee and Viking units, began to land in the main hangar of the Imperium's battlecruiser. Indicator lights blinked along the metallic walls, while the hum of engines and hiss of hydraulics filled the air.
One of the Astra Militarum officers immediately approached Reuel as he stepped off the medivac.
"Lord Emperor," the officer greeted respectfully.
Reuel's gaze fell upon the pile of Lycan and vampire corpses brought from the planet's surface. The stench of blood, scorched flesh, and feral pheromones still lingered thick in the air.
"Move all the bodies to the storage bay," Reuel ordered curtly.
"Orders received, Lord Emperor."
Without delay, the Astra Militarum personnel began carrying out their task, hauling the corpses away on automated stretchers toward the biological quarantine chamber.
Meanwhile, the Terran Marines and pilots began disembarking from their respective starfighters. The tension was easing. Some of them had already removed their helmets and were slumped against the walls, trying to rest after the long mission.
Reuel walked across the hangar toward his private corridor. His body was filthy, his combat attire stained with dust, dried blood, and the rancid stink of the Lycan lair's waste system. He entered his private chamber and stepped into the decompression shower. Hot water mixed with bursts of blue light cascaded over his body, washing away every trace of filth and lingering biological particles.
"That Lycan sewer... the stench was unbearable. Is it my body that's the problem? Ah, forget it," he thought, half amused, half disgusted.
---
Meanwhile, in the Observation Hangar...
Selene had finally arrived aboard the flagship. Her steps were silent, her expression cold and unreadable. The ship was quiet-no sign of Reuel in the hangar or the main corridors.
On the far side of the observation hangar, Amalia stood alone, gazing at the expanse of stars beyond the ship's transparent wall. Her eyes searched the distance, as if looking for something amidst the galaxies.
Selene approached.
"Did you kill Viktor?" Amalia asked, not turning around.
"Yes," Selene answered flatly. "Viktor is dead."
Amalia nodded slowly. Her face remained calm, but a faint sadness flickered in her eyes.
"Dead... Now only Marcus and I remain from that era," Amalia murmured softly.
She fell silent for a moment, then spoke again.
"Reuel was looking for you," she said quietly. "Weren't you supposed to return together from the battle?"
Selene's brow furrowed slightly, surprised.
"Reuel went too?" she asked.
"I didn't see him at the site."
A faint trace of relief appeared in Selene's eyes-subtle, but clear to anyone watching closely.
"In that case... maybe he didn't want you to see him," Amalia said with a small smile.
In her heart, she thought: Reuel must've been protecting her from the shadows... as always.
Silence.
Then, with a soft hiss, the door to the observation room opened automatically. Reuel stepped in. His hair was still slightly damp, and his body now wrapped in a clean white bathrobe. His steps were calm, relaxed, with the fresh scent of cleanser replacing the reek of war.
He scanned the room with a glance, then smiled.
"Ah... the two most beautiful women on this ship gathered in one place. Congratulations, Selene, on your revenge."
Selene stared at him without a smile.
"You went too?" she asked flatly.
Her sky-blue eyes pierced directly into Reuel's, sharp and demanding an answer.
"What do you mean? I don't understand..." Reuel replied, his tone light-feigning innocence.
"The Lycan lair. You went there too... didn't you?"
Reuel narrowed his eyes slightly, then grinned.
"Oh? You saw me? That's impossible. I'm very skilled at leaving no trace."
His tone was almost teasing, but beneath the smile lurked something calculating-like someone who knew far more than he was letting on.
Reuel was slightly surprised by Selene's ability. No one was supposed to know what he did at the Lycan stronghold-he had hidden himself with extreme caution.
He hadn't realized that his casual remark to a random Terran Marine-about heading down to the surface-had been overheard by Amalia. And now, it seemed Amalia had just told Selene that Reuel had gone to the Lycan base to protect her.
Reuel glanced briefly at Amalia. He immediately understood-chances were, it was Amalia who had leaked the information. He suppressed a small smirk. So, Selene knew.
Selene remained silent. Without expression, she tossed something toward Reuel-a pendant shaped like a key, adorned with engraved vampiric symbols.
Reuel caught it with one hand. He looked at the object for a moment, then slowly stepped toward Selene and returned it.
"This belonged to your father. You should be the one to keep it," Reuel said calmly.
Selene froze.
"My father?" she whispered, barely audible.
Her eyes widened. She stared intently at the pendant, as if tracing long-buried memories. No wonder it felt familiar...
"But... what's it for? Why did Victor hide it?" Selene asked, suspicion in her voice.
"It's... a key," Reuel replied.
"A key? To what?"
Reuel turned to Amalia. "You know too, don't you?"
Amalia nodded slowly, hesitantly. "Yes... I know. But... who are you really? How could you possibly know this secret?"
Amalia's gaze was piercing. But behind the firmness, there was genuine curiosity.
Reuel shrugged casually. "Someone told me. If you want to know who..."
He deliberately left the sentence hanging, then let his gaze drop dramatically toward Amalia's chest-with a bold, unrepentant smirk that was somehow still charming.
Amalia merely sighed and rolled her eyes. As if tired of his antics-even though her cheeks seemed to flush slightly.
"You're truly... shameless," she muttered coldly.
"But at least I'm honest," Reuel replied breezily.
"You shameless bastard. What the hell are you actually trying to do?!" Selene snapped, annoyed.
Seeing that Reuel was still blatantly staring at Amalia's chest without the slightest hint of remorse, Selene lost her patience. She shoved Reuel hard enough to knock him onto the sofa. But Reuel pulled Selene down with him, sitting her beside him.
Strangely, Selene didn't resist. Though she turned her face away, refusing to meet his gaze directly.
"This is the key to the underground prison where William Corvinus is held. The progenitor of the Lycans. And that prison... was built by your own father," Reuel stated quickly, to the point.
Selene's eyes widened. She examined the pendant more closely. Something about it tickled her memory, though still faint.
"You're not seriously planning to release that creature, are you? He's lost all traces of humanity. You know what would happen if he were set free?" Amalia's voice rose.
Her tone showed alarm. The fact that she knew William's name meant this wasn't just some random secret.
"Release Wilhelm? Do I look that stupid? For what? To invite the apocalypse? Besides, even if he were freed, he wouldn't be able to do anything!" Reuel snapped, irritated.
He stared sharply at Amalia, then added with a biting tone,
"You know the old saying: women with big tits are often... short on brains."
Amalia recoiled. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!"
She half stood, her face flushed red with fury. But Reuel remained seated, gazing at her with amused, teasing eyes.
"I'm just an ordinary man. And this is how ordinary men talk," he said lightly.
Amalia sneered. "I still don't understand... how did Selene fall in love with you?"
"Any other woman would've torn you apart by now... if they knew Selene could love a man like you."
Her words made Selene blush. Her pale cheeks turned red, but she remained silent as Reuel slipped an arm around her waist-and tossed a mischievous grin toward Amalia.
"By the way, Amalia... you're a thousand years old, aren't you? Have you ever liked a man?" Reuel asked, now in a more playful tone.
Amalia answered flatly, without hesitation. "Men? All men are garbage. What good are they?"
Her reply was calm and firm, utterly unfazed by the question.
Of course, Reuel nearly forgot: Amalia hailed from a noble bloodline of medieval Europe. She was known as a strong and respected woman-no wonder she looked down on men, especially those who weren't her equal.