Bangkok never truly slept.
It glittered, it pulsed - alive, hungry, and just human enough to forget what hunted in its shadows.
From the top floor of the Hirunkit Tower, Nani watched the city like a god surveying his creation. Below, neon veins spread across the skyline - red and gold, like living arteries.
Behind him, the room was silent except for the faint hum of hidden machinery and the whisper of rain against the glass.
"William," Nani said, voice smooth as silk and colder than winter.
"Yes, my lord."
"How many?"
"Three more hunters in the west district. Two wolves reported dead."
Nani turned, eyes faintly red in the dim light.
"And the Council?"
"Panicking," William replied without hesitation. "They're calling it a human interference - but we both know that's a lie."
A faint curve touched Nani's lips. "Of course it's a lie. They've been lying for centuries. That's why they're still alive."
From the far end of the room, Est stepped in - younger, human, hair still damp from the storm outside.
"The press is asking about the warehouse explosion," Est said, tapping his tablet. "I told them it was a gas leak. They don't believe me."
"Convince them," Nani replied, already bored.
"With what? Magic?"
"Charm," Nani said, sipping from a glass of dark red.
"Same thing."
Est muttered something under his breath. William's mouth twitched - the closest thing to a laugh the ancient vampire had ever heard from him.
"You find humans amusing, don't you?" William said quietly.
Nani glanced at the city again. "I find everything amusing, until it isn't."
There it was - that glint behind his calm tone, the weight of someone who had seen civilizations rise and fall, and had outlived every heartbeat that ever dared to love him.
"Nothing surprises me anymore," he said softly. "Not life. Not death. Not even eternity."
Lightning flashed, reflecting in the window - a blood-red streak across the sky.
For the briefest second, he felt it again - a pulse, faint but real, like another heart beating in rhythm with his own. He blinked. It was gone.
William's voice broke the silence.
"My lord?"
"It's nothing," Nani murmured, setting the glass down. "Just... a flicker."
Outside, thunder rolled - and somewhere in the distant mountains, a wolf howled back.
---
The council chamber lay hidden beneath the city — carved from black marble and shadow, a place older than Bangkok itself.
Here, beneath the neon pulse of the human world, the true heart of the vampire empire beat in silence.
Thirteen elders waited at the long obsidian table, their faces pale under the faint red glow of candlelight.
When Nani entered, the whispers stopped.
He didn't need to announce himself. His presence filled the room like gravity.
William moved a few steps behind, silent and watchful — eyes sharp, fangs faintly glinting.
Est, human and very much aware of how fragile his heartbeat sounded in this room, followed anyway.
He was the only mortal permitted here — and even that was a risk.
"My Lord Hirunkit," rasped one of the elders, an ancient vampire named Varn. His voice cracked like dry parchment. "We convene under bloodlight. The balance trembles again."
Nani took the head seat without hesitation. His movements were precise, languid — like a predator that didn't need to prove it could kill.
He steepled his fingers, eyes half-lidded. "The balance always trembles, Elder. That's how it stays interesting."
A few of the younger council members shifted uneasily.
William, standing behind his master, said nothing.
Varn slammed a hand on the table. "This is no game, my lord! Three of our enclaves destroyed. Our hunters found drained — their blood turned to ash. The Wolves stir again!"
Nani tilted his head slightly.
"Wolves have stirred before. They howl, they bleed, they die. History repeats itself beautifully."
The elder's voice trembled. "And yet you do nothing!"
At that, Nani's eyes flicked up. The air itself changed — colder, heavier.
Every candle in the room flickered at once.
"I do not 'do nothing,' Elder," he said quietly. "I allow the world to keep turning until I decide otherwise. That is the difference between power and panic."
Silence. Only Est's heartbeat, steady and brave, broke the tension.
One of the younger councilors — thin, elegant, ambitious — dared to speak.
"Perhaps the curse is stirring again."
The word hung in the air.
Curse.
Nani's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"We don't speak of children's tales in this chamber," he said coldly.
But another elder leaned forward — the oldest of them all, his eyes like hollow garnets.
"And yet those tales were written in blood, Supreme. You know the prophecy. When the Blood stirs, the Moon answers. The balance will not hold until—"
"Until?" Nani's voice was silk over steel.
"Until the last of the Guardian line is erased," the elder said. "Break the chain, end the curse."
A murmur spread through the council — approval, fear, hunger.
Est swallowed hard, watching the exchange. He knew better than to speak here.
William's gaze flicked briefly toward Nani — waiting.
The Supreme Vampire leaned back in his chair, silent for a long moment. Then he smiled — slow, dangerous.
"End the curse," he repeated softly. "How simple you make eternity sound, Elder. Shall I burn the forests next? Drown the moon? Perhaps erase time itself while I'm at it?"
The elder stiffened.
"My lord—"
"You speak of bloodlines as if they are threads to be cut," Nani continued, his tone still smooth, but colder now. "But curses do not end with murder. They sleep. And if you wake them too soon…"
He leaned forward, eyes glowing faintly red.
"They remember who tried to silence them."
For a breathless second, no one dared move. Even the candles froze.
Then Nani rose, slow and elegant, the hem of his coat whispering against the marble floor.
"Handle your panic quietly," he said. "And stop chasing ghosts. If the curse wishes to return, it will knock on our door soon enough."
He turned to leave.
"And when it does," he added softly, almost to himself, "I will answer."
William followed silently.
Est exhaled for the first time in minutes.
Behind them, the elders remained motionless — some trembling, others watching with hungry eyes. The word Guardian lingered like a wound in the air.
---
As Nani ascends the long corridor back toward the surface, the sound of the city grows louder — cars, thunder, distant laughter.
He pauses, hand against the cold wall, eyes distant.
"They think ending a bloodline ends a curse," he murmured. "Fools."
William glanced at him. "You don't believe it's stirring?"
Nani's lips curved faintly. "Belief is for mortals, William. But the air smells... different."
Above them, lightning split the night again — blood-red across the clouds.
And somewhere far away, a wolf's cry echoed through the storm.