The attack came from within the vampire community itself.
A faction calling themselves the Purists—vampires who believed the species should remain unchanged, who saw Adrian's healing work as corrupting the natural order—declared war.
"They're arguing that flawed transformations are nature's way of culling the weak," Marcus explained, reading their manifesto. "That by healing imperfect vampires, you're weakening the species overall."
"That's eugenics," Adrian said flatly. "They're advocating for letting vampires die based on genetic purity. It's monstrous."
"It's also gaining support," Kieran added grimly. "Especially among older vampires who remember when vampire numbers were smaller, more selective. They see your healing work as opening the floodgates—creating too many vampires, diluting the bloodline."
"How many support them?"
"At least a hundred vampires across Europe and Asia. Maybe more in hiding." Marcus pulled up a map showing reported Purist activity. "They're organized, well-funded, and increasingly violent. Three vampires you healed were killed last week—executions, meant to send a message."
Adrian felt sick. He'd saved those vampires, given them proper transformations, and now they were dead because of it.
"We need to stop them," Adrian said.
"How? We can't start a war within the vampire community. It would tear apart everything we've built."
"Then we find their leaders and deal with them directly. Cut off the head of the snake."
Wei, who'd been listening silently, spoke up. "The Purists have a headquarters. An old castle in the Carpathian Mountains. Very traditional vampire aesthetic—apparently they're all about the gothic horror image."
"How do you know this?" Kieran asked.
"I have sources. Werewolves hear things." Wei grinned. "Want me to arrange a raid?"
"No," Kieran said immediately. "If werewolves attack a vampire stronghold, it could trigger old prejudices, make this about species conflict instead of ideological differences."
"Then vampires need to handle it," Adrian said. "We'll go to the castle. Confront their leaders. End this before more people die."
"That's suicide. They'll have dozens of vampires, all trained fighters, all ideologically committed to stopping you."
"Then we bring backup." Adrian turned to Kieran. "The First Generation. They approved my healing work. If the Purists are threatening me, they're threatening the First Generation's interests."
Kieran considered this. "Elena and the others might be willing to help. But calling on them means escalating this to a full vampire political crisis."
"It's already a crisis. Vampires are dying because of me. I won't let that continue."
They contacted the First Generation, presenting the situation. Elena's response was immediate and uncompromising.
"The Purists represent old thinking. Backward ideology that has no place in our modern species. We'll handle it."
"We want to be involved," Adrian insisted. "This is my fight."
"Very well. But you follow our lead. The First Generation doesn't lose battles, Adrian. We end them."
The assault on the Purist castle was planned with military precision. Elena brought five other First Generation vampires—enough ancient power to overwhelm any resistance. Kieran, Adrian, Marcus, and Wei's pack would provide support.
They attacked at midnight, the darkness their natural element.
The castle was exactly what Adrian expected—crumbling Gothic architecture, gargoyles, the whole stereotypical vampire aesthetic. Purist guards patrolled the walls, clearly expecting trouble.
"They know we're coming," Kieran observed.
"Good," Elena said coldly. "Let them prepare. It won't matter."
The First Generation moved like a force of nature. They didn't sneak or strategize—they simply walked through the front gate, overwhelming any resistance through sheer ancient power.
Adrian watched in awe as Elena casually tossed aside vampires who were centuries old like they were children. The other First Generation vampires were equally devastating, their millennia of experience making them unstoppable.
By the time they reached the castle's main hall, the Purist leadership was waiting—a council of seven vampires, all old, all powerful, all completely outmatched.
"Elena," the Purist leader—a vampire named Dominic—greeted coldly. "We should have known the First Generation would defend the abomination."
"Abomination?" Elena's voice was dangerous. "You dare call Cain's companion an abomination?"
"His so-called healing corrupts our bloodlines. Makes us weak. Dilutes what makes us vampire." Dominic gestured to Adrian with disgust. "He's destroying our species from within."
"He's saving our species," Elena countered. "Flawed transformations have been a problem for millennia. Adrian's gift corrects what we couldn't fix ourselves. You're simply too blind and proud to accept help."
"It's not natural—"
"Neither are we!" Elena's eyes blazed red. "We're vampires, Dominic. Cursed beings, undead creatures sustained by blood. Nothing about us is natural. Adrian's gift is no more unnatural than our existence itself."
The Purist council looked uncertain now, faced with the full wrath of the First Generation.
"Stand down," Elena commanded. "Disband your organization. Accept the new reality. Or face the consequences."
"And if we refuse?" Dominic asked, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Then we'll kill you all and scatter your followers. The choice is yours."
It wasn't really a choice. Faced with certain destruction, the Purist leadership capitulated. They agreed to disband, to publicly denounce their ideology, to accept Adrian's healing work as legitimate.
But as they left the castle, Adrian felt no satisfaction. They'd won through overwhelming force, not by changing minds. The Purists might have surrendered, but their ideology would linger.
"You're thinking too much," Kieran said on the flight back to Shanghai.
"I'm thinking we solved a problem with violence when we should have used persuasion."
"Some people can't be persuaded. They need to be stopped." Kieran took his hand. "You saved lives tonight. Vampire lives who would have been killed by Purist fanatics. That matters more than ideology."
"Does it? If we don't change hearts and minds, we're just creating more enemies who'll wait for an opportunity to strike back."
"Then we deal with them when they do. We can't fix everyone, Adrian. We can only do our best with the choices we have."
Back in Shanghai, Adrian resumed his healing work with renewed security. The Purist threat had been neutralized, but it had taught him valuable lessons about the resistance his work would face.
"Change is hard," Wei observed one evening, watching Adrian heal another flawed vampire. "Especially for immortal beings who've existed one way for centuries. You're disrupting their entire worldview."
"I'm saving lives," Adrian countered.
"You're doing both. That's what makes you dangerous—and important."
Five years after his transformation, Adrian had become something he never anticipated—a key figure in vampire politics, a healer who could reshape bloodlines, someone connected to the very foundation of their species.
And yet, despite all the power and prestige and attention, what he valued most was still the same thing he'd valued as a human: the vampire beside him, the bond between them, the love that had survived everything.
"No regrets?" Kieran asked that night as they lay together.
"About becoming a vampire? About all the chaos that followed? About changing the vampire world?" Adrian smiled. "Not even one."
"Good. Because we're nowhere near done. This is just the beginning."
"The beginning of what?"
"Of our eternity together. We've had five years. We have millions more ahead of us." Kieran kissed him softly. "And I intend to make every single one of them count."
"Romantic and slightly terrifying. Very on brand for you."
"I contain multitudes."
They made love that night with a passion that hadn't dimmed despite five years of immortality together. If anything, it had intensified—their blood bond making every touch electric, every sensation shared.
Adrian fell asleep afterward, his ancient soul finally at peace despite the chaos of their immortal existence.
He dreamed of Cain again, of the garden, of the beginning of everything. But this time, the dream felt different. Not like a memory, but like a message.
Soon, Cain's voice echoed through the vision. I'll return soon. Be ready.
Adrian woke with a gasp. Kieran was immediately alert.
"What is it?"
"Cain. He's coming back. He said soon."
Kieran's expression shifted through several emotions—concern, excitement, fear, determination. "Then we prepare. We tell the First Generation. We strengthen our alliances. We make sure when he returns, we're ready for whatever comes next."
"What do you think will happen when he comes back?"
"I don't know. But knowing our luck? Probably something catastrophic that we'll have to fight our way through."
"Together?"
"Always together."
Adrian settled back against Kieran's chest, listening to the absence of a heartbeat, feeling the bond that connected them pulse with eternal devotion.
Five years down. Eternity to go.
And somehow, that didn't seem long enough.