FLASHBACK — 1 YEAR AND 3 MONTHS AGO
Rain drummed against the tall windows of the Grand Library of Asterfall, a place where time itself seemed to breathe slower.
Bookshelves rose like the pillars of a forgotten cathedral, filled with tomes so ancient that some looked ready to crumble at a touch.
Nyra moved between the aisles, silent as a shadow.
The soft scrape of the Kaburami along the polished floor was the only sign she existed at all.
Her hood hid most of her face, but her blue eyes gleamed beneath the dim light.
She stopped before a wide table where an enormous tome lay open, its pages yellowed and stained with age.
The inscriptions writhed as if they were alive.
As she discreetly turned a page, a voice drifted from the shadows behind her:
"So… you're searching for the Book of Ancient Legends.
The one that tells the tale of the werewolf warrior Ulisses."
Nyra snapped the book shut with a sharp crack.
She did not turn.
Her voice cut clean through the silence:
"That's not what I'm looking for. Leave."
The candle flames flickered when Cletus emerged from between the shelves.
First, a whisper of movement…
Then a pale grin floating in darkness…
Then his entire form, as if carved from the shadow itself.
He walked with a slow, almost dancing grace.
"Then… what are you looking for?" he asked, voice low, melodic, dangerous.
Nyra said nothing.
Cletus tilted his head, eyes glittering with malicious curiosity.
"A man who became a werewolf…
who impregnated a vampire woman…
and she later gave birth to twin daughters…"
He stepped closer.
Now he stood only a few meters away.
"That's the story… isn't it?"
In a motion as swift as torn wind, Nyra drew the Kaburami.
The blade stopped less than a breath from his face.
But she still didn't look at him.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
Her voice came low, threatening, far too calm:
"Leave. I won't say it a third time."
Cletus didn't step back.
He leaned into the blade.
His fingers brushed the metal with fascination…
Then he grasped it.
The edge cut deep into his palm.
Blood spilled onto the marble floor, each drop echoing in the library's silence.
"People inherently fear evil…" he murmured.
"And yet…"
He tightened his grip on the sword.
The wound tore wider.
"…occasionally, someone finds themselves seduced by it."
Nyra finally lifted her gaze.
Blue eyes locked with his.
Silence, heavy and ancient, settled between them.
Then she sheathed the katana in one fluid, elegant motion.
The blade disappeared into the scabbard without a sound.
Cletus opened his wounded hand, watching the blood run for a heartbeat…
before the flesh began to knit itself back together, devouring the injury from within.
He was fully healed in less than five seconds.
Nyra adjusted the sword at her hip and asked:
"What are you trying to achieve with this?"
Cletus smiled, slow, warped.
"Tell me… what Ulisses whispered to your mother before he died.
The secret he never wrote in his books."
Nyra stared at him for a long time, so long even the candles seemed to wait.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the exit, her steps echoing through the empty hall.
Cletus remained where he was, eyes fixed on her fading silhouette.
And slowly, his lips curled into a malicious, hungry smile.
A smile that said he had finally found what he'd been searching for.
PRESENT
The castle's undercroft was an ancient abyss.
Roots like petrified veins clung to the walls, and a gray mist crawled along the floor like a veil of lost souls.
Before a colossal gate of bone and corroded metal stood Cletus, his grin twisted by the torchlight.
He flipped through the same ancient book, its pages yellowed and pulsing as if they breathed.
His voice came out hoarse, trembling with excitement:
"People screamed in fear of this place…
The Eye of Twilight…
a foundation carved from pure dread.
Fear…"
A low, animalistic laugh slipped from him.
Behind him, Nyra stood still, Kaburami resting against the floor, her eyes fixed on the glowing demonic inscriptions across the gate.
Cletus lifted his face, half of his smile swallowed by shadow.
"Yes… fear…"
He turned slowly toward her.
"Can't you feel it?"
The ground shuddered.
A subterranean roar echoed.
The gate trembled, its hinges crying like starving beasts.
Runes lit up in red and green as Cletus spoke louder, each word a profane chant:
"The rage and agony of those trapped here…
their wicked desires sealed away…
All because Ulisses slammed shut the door to the demon world in their faces!"
With a howl of iron and air, the gate opened, revealing a living darkness.
Nyra stepped forward without hesitation.
Cletus watched the shifting void for a moment.
"What's wrong?" she asked without turning.
"Nothing." His smile was cold.
Too cold.
He closed the book and followed her into the chasm, the mist coiling around their feet.
Meanwhile, Lucy fought inside the warm, pulsating body of the colossal serpent.
The interior was a living prison, walls of shifting flesh, acidic and slick, spawning grotesque creatures hungry for anything that moved.
Lucy gripped the Dracallion, blood and bile dripping from her shoulders.
"Ugh… even I think this is disgusting." she muttered, dodging a thrashing tongue.
She sliced through a goo-drenched creature, ripping flesh and unleashing a cascade of purple-white fluid.
With her free hand, she summoned Gnu and Fritz, the twin elemental blades—one violet, one white.
"Time for an acid bath, you freaks!"
The blades crossed, unleashing a twin surge of lightning and wind that tore open the serpent's insides.
The beast shrieked, its body convulsing as it crashed toward the castle.
On a balcony above, a mysterious blonde woman walked in silence, boots tapping a steady rhythm on the wet stone.
An Uzi hung ready in her hand.
The night sky bled into the ancient dust swirling in the air.
Then the ground shook violently.
The walls echoed with laughter, deep, twisted.
Nyra and Cletus felt the tremor from below.
Stones rained from the ceiling.
The blonde did not flinch.
When the rumbling ceased, a cloud of dust and blood rose before her.
The giant serpent lay dead.
She approached, weapon raised, pointing at the massive eye as it twitched.
The eyelid peeled open with a wet crack…
And Lucy emerged, blood-soaked, breath ragged, Dracallion glowing crimson.
The blonde's gaze hardened.
Lucy spotted a rusted sign near an archway ahead:
"WELCOME"
She smirked.
"So this is the next stage. Nice."
She walked past the blonde without looking back.
"Wait!" the woman barked, lifting her gun.
Lucy stopped.
"If you're gonna ask for a date, forget it.
I don't go out with people who shoot me in the head."
The blonde raised a brow.
"A date with a vampire? I'm not that desperate."
Her smile was cold.
"Besides, I don't really go for women who smell like blood."
Lucy glanced at herself, soaked in dried gore.
"Okay… fair point."
A Wendigo lunged beside the blonde.
Lucy fired without looking.
"Still more charming than you, though."
The blonde turned and shot another Wendigo behind Lucy.
The two spun back-to-back, guns blazing, their movements synced like a deadly waltz.
"Alright, sweetheart, what's your name!?" Lucy shouted between bursts.
"I don't have one." the blonde said bluntly.
"Oh, come on, every mysterious girl says that.
So what do I call you then?"
"Call me whatever you want."
Lucy smile, as if he had remembered something cool.
"Alright then… Tory."
She flipped backward, landing smoothly, firing toward the entrance.
"I will leave the rest of the show to you, Tory.
I've got an after-party to attend."
She blew her a kiss.
The blondie, now 'Tory' answered with an icy stare and unloaded both Uzis with ruthless precision, bullets echoing through the castle halls.
Lucy stepped into the darkness of the next stage.
And vanished.