The morning air of Elmsreach tasted like metal.
Smoke from the upper-district chimneys drifted down into the narrow streets where the poor lived, coating every stone with grey dust. The city always looked divided—bright towers of glass and gold above, crumbling bricks and rusted pipes below.
Down there, Aiden Cross pulled the hood of his worn jacket tighter and stared at the long line stretching outside the Blood Registry Bureau. Today was Registry Day—the day every seventeen-year-old was tested to learn their bloodline rank.
People whispered about it all year. For nobles it was a celebration. For kids from the lower blocks, it was judgment day.
Aiden's stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since last night.
"Great," he muttered. "I'll learn I'm worthless on an empty stomach."
In front of him, two boys with fancy coats laughed loudly. One waved a gleaming identification band—the kind only people with noble blood could buy.
"My brother's rank was Crimson-Tier," he bragged. "I'll probably hit that too."
His friend smirked. "Hope they don't mistake you for a Null-Born like the rats down here."
Aiden said nothing, but his fists tightened in his pockets. He'd learned long ago that words didn't win fights in Elmsreach. Hunger and silence did.
The Bureau's doors slid open. A cold mechanical voice called,
"Next candidate—Aiden Cross."
Aiden stepped inside. The air was clean, sharp, almost sterile. Machines hummed around him—rows of glass tubes filled with faintly glowing red fluid, each labeled with a different rank. Elite, High-Noble, Common-Tier, Dormant, Unknown, and at the very bottom, the word no one wanted: Null-Born.
A woman in a silver uniform scanned his ID. Her expression didn't change when she saw his slum code.
"Sit," she ordered.
Aiden sat. She placed a small crystal device against his arm. The machine pulsed once, a soft red light spreading through the veins on his skin. He expected to feel warmth—every registered person described that moment as a rush, a heartbeat of power.
He felt nothing.
The light flickered, sputtered, and died. The machine gave a flat beep. The woman frowned and checked the screen. Then her face turned cold.
"Error confirmed," she said flatly. "Subject: Null-Born. No detectable bloodline."
Aiden's mouth went dry. "You—there must be a mistake. Run it again."
She looked at him like he was dirt. "There's no mistake. Move along."
The doors hissed open behind him. He could hear the snickers of others in line.
"Another Bloodless," someone whispered. "Should've stayed in the gutters."
Aiden forced himself to walk out without saying a word. Every step felt heavier. Outside, the crowd parted as he passed—as if being Null was contagious.
When he reached the lower streets, the noise of the market swallowed the world again: shouting vendors, clattering carts, the hum of life that didn't care who you were. He slipped through alleys until he reached a small, cracked building where a faint light glowed in the window.
Inside, his sister Lila sat by a flickering lamp, patching up a torn blanket. She was sixteen, too thin, her hands rough from work. But when she saw him, she smiled the way only she could—gentle, pretending everything was fine.
"How did it go?" she asked softly.
Aiden hesitated. "It's… done."
"That bad?"
He dropped the Bureau card on the table. The word NULL blinked in dull red letters.
Lila's smile faded. She reached out and touched his arm. "Aiden…"
He stepped back. "Don't. It doesn't matter. We already knew."
She didn't argue. That made it worse.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The rain started outside, tapping against the broken glass. Somewhere above, airships rumbled—reminders of the world that would never notice them.
Finally Aiden sighed. "We still have to eat. I'll find something."
"It's late. At least wait for morning."
"I'll be careful." He forced a grin. "You know me—I always come back."
She gave him a look that said she didn't believe that, but she let him go.
---
The night streets of Elmsreach were quieter, colder. Neon signs blinked through fog. Aiden moved past shuttered shops and the shadows of people sleeping under bridges. He'd scavenged in these parts before—behind old factories, near the city's edge where the tunnels began.
Those tunnels led under the cliffs. People said strange things lived down there—creatures born from failed experiments of the Blood Registry. Null-Borns who'd been taken and changed.
Aiden didn't believe stories. He believed in hunger.
He reached a rusted gate marked Restricted Zone. Half the letters were gone. Slipping through, he entered the darkness beyond. The smell hit him first—wet stone, decay, and something metallic.
His flashlight barely worked, flickering weakly. The tunnel opened into a wide cavern. Water dripped from above, echoing like slow heartbeats.
Something moved in the dark.
Aiden froze. His light caught a glint—eyes, low to the ground, reflecting red. A growl rolled through the air. He turned and ran, boots splashing through puddles, breath burning in his chest.
He didn't stop until he stumbled into another passage, narrower, slanting downward. The creature's sounds faded behind him. Only then did he realize the tunnel glowed faintly—lines of crimson light tracing along the walls, pulsing like veins.
"What is this place…" he whispered.
The air felt heavier, almost alive. He followed the glow until he reached a small chamber. At its center stood a stone pedestal, half-buried in dust. On it rested an old iron box, its surface etched with strange symbols.
It looked untouched for centuries.
Curiosity overrode fear. He brushed the dust off, and the moment his fingers touched the metal, the veins of light in the walls flared brighter.
The box clicked.
Aiden jumped back. The lid opened a little, revealing a dim red glow inside—like the last ember of a dying fire. Hunger and exhaustion clouded his thoughts. His stomach cramped painfully, and before he could think, he reached toward the light.
Warmth surged through his hand—then pain. A burning sting crawled up his arm, through his chest, to his heart. He gasped and fell to his knees. The world spun. The light from the box poured into him, seeping into his veins like liquid fire.
He tried to scream, but no sound came.
Then, silence.
The box went dark. Aiden collapsed beside it, trembling. The last thing he heard before blacking out was a faint whisper in his mind, cold and distant:
[Sanguine Core System Initialising…]
He lay still as the cavern pulsed with a faint red glow, marking the birth of something the world of bloodlines had never seen.