The impact hit like a meteor.
The reinforced concrete floor shattered beneath Blade's body, cracks spiderwebbing outward as chunks of debris blasted into the air. The sheer force of the slam rippled through the entire factory floor, dust and gravel scattering in every direction. Even with his hybrid physiology, Blade couldn't fully absorb the blow, the shock tearing through his body before he could stabilize himself.
For a brief moment, everything blurred.
Then his vision cleared, and what he saw made his pupils contract sharply. Drake was straddling him, his expression twisted with something far beyond rage, his entire body trembling with violent energy.
"I… am the God of Vampires!"
The roar tore through the hall, echoing like thunder.
As the words left his mouth, Drake's body began to change. His flesh rippled unnaturally, skin splitting and reforming as something beneath it forced its way out. Muscles swelled and twisted, bone structures shifting in grotesque ways, until the humanoid form he once held completely collapsed into something monstrous.
What remained was no longer human.
A creature like something dragged straight out of a nightmare loomed over Blade, its body armored with dense, unnatural tissue, its presence radiating overwhelming pressure. The transformation was complete in seconds, but the effect it left behind lingered like a suffocating weight.
On the other side of the battlefield, chaos was unfolding just as violently.
Hannibal sprinted through the passageway, boots pounding against the ground as a pack of furious vampires chased close behind him. Their snarls echoed through the corridor, their speed relentless as they closed the distance, their hunger written plainly across their twisted faces.
He didn't stop talking.
"Yeah, that's right! Keep coming, you ugly freaks!" Hannibal shouted over his shoulder, his voice filled with bravado that didn't quite match the panic on his face. "You've got the guts to chase me? I'll—yeah, sure, I'll let you chew on something real nice if you catch me!"
The words came out fast, sharp, and completely unnecessary.
Behind him, the vampires accelerated, their patience snapping under the constant stream of insults. Their fangs bared wider, their movements turning more aggressive as they prepared to take him down.
Hannibal's expression twisted further.
"Shit! Locke! My dear, beloved friend—if you can hear me, now would be a great time to show up!"
The timing couldn't have been better.
Just as the leading vampire lunged, ready to tackle him to the ground, a black blur cut through the space beside Hannibal. The air shifted, a faint gust brushing past his face as something moved faster than he could track.
Hannibal blinked.
Then he grinned.
"Oh, you're all dead now," he said, his tone flipping instantly, confidence snapping back into place like a switch had been flipped. "Every single one of you."
The first impact landed behind him.
A heavy, crushing sound echoed through the corridor, followed immediately by the wet crack of bone snapping under impossible force. The leading vampire's skull caved inward, his body launching backward like it had been hit by a truck, smashing into the others behind him and sending them tumbling in a tangled mess.
Locke moved.
His figure blurred into motion, afterimages trailing behind him as he stepped into the swarm. The silver blade in his hand cut through the air like lightning, each swing precise, each movement carrying overwhelming force.
Screams erupted.
One vampire after another disintegrated, their bodies unable to withstand the sheer speed and power behind his strikes. The fight didn't last long—it couldn't. Against him, they weren't opponents, just obstacles waiting to be erased.
Hannibal watched with wide eyes, his grin stretching even wider.
"Oh yeah, that's more like it," he muttered, folding his arms for a second like he had all the time in the world. "Look at you guys. Seriously pathetic. You call that a hunt?"
It didn't matter that he wasn't the one doing the fighting.
He talked like he was.
Between Locke's relentless strikes, vampires were sent flying, their bodies crashing into walls or collapsing mid-air before dissolving into ash. The corridor became a slaughterhouse in seconds, the overwhelming presence radiating from Locke turning the tide completely.
The remaining vampires broke.
Fear finally took hold, their instincts screaming at them to run. Those with any sense turned immediately, abandoning the fight as they scrambled toward the rear passage, their earlier aggression completely gone.
"What the hell is that thing?" one of them shouted, his voice cracking.
"Forget it—just run!"
They didn't get far.
At the far end of the passage, Albert stepped into view, bow raised and expression cold. He stood directly in their path, blocking the only clear escape route, his presence forcing them to halt abruptly.
For a moment, everything froze.
Then they roared and charged.
Desperation replaced fear as they threw themselves forward, hoping to break through. Albert met them without hesitation, his movements sharp as he fired and closed distance in one fluid sequence.
Behind them, the screams of their companions echoed louder.
They were trapped.
Hannibal finally snapped out of his spectator role, glancing between Locke and the chaos ahead before rushing forward. Still, for a brief second, he hesitated, unsure where to even step into the fight.
It wasn't often he felt out of place.
Locke didn't slow down.
One of the fleeing vampires turned too late. His head spun completely around under a single strike, his body collapsing before it even registered what had happened. Without breaking pace, Locke surged forward, closing the distance to Albert's position in a blur.
Hannibal followed, muttering something under his breath as he tried to catch up.
By the time they arrived, the situation had already shifted.
Albert stood amid the chaos, breathing slightly heavier, her expression tight as she watched several vampires slip past her and disappear deeper into the passage. None of them had tried to attack her directly—they were too focused on escaping.
Lucky.
Locke reached out and caught the last one.
The vampire had just made it past Albert when a hand clamped down on him from behind. Before he could react, his body was lifted and slammed into the ground with brutal force.
The impact knocked the air out of him.
He roared, trying to rise, but the sound cut off abruptly. A silver blade flashed across his throat, and a burst of crimson flame followed instantly.
The three of them watched as his body broke apart.
First the skin, then the flesh, and finally the bone—all of it disintegrated into ash, leaving nothing behind.
Silence fell over the passage.
The remaining vampires had already fled, their presence fading into the distance. Locke's gaze lingered for a moment, but he didn't pursue. There was something more important.
He turned.
Albert exhaled slowly as he offered her a hand, pulling her back to her feet. Her expression was complicated, her eyes lingering on him longer than necessary.
If not for the fact that he lacked the usual signs, she might have mistaken him for something far worse than the creatures they were hunting.
Locke gave her shoulder a brief pat.
For a human to stand against vampires like this—it wasn't something to take lightly.
"We need to help Blade," she said quickly, her voice tight with urgency.
Locke nodded.
The three of them moved without delay, retracing their path back into the main factory hall. The moment they stepped inside, the scene that greeted them made even Hannibal's grin falter.
Drake—no, the monster that Drake had become—stood at the center of the devastation.
His massive form loomed over Blade, his fist slamming down again and again with brutal force. Each strike cracked the ground beneath them, the sound echoing through the hall like a series of explosions.
Hannibal winced.
"Yeah… that's gotta hurt."
Locke didn't respond.
His gaze darkened slightly as realization set in. In the original flow of events, Blade shouldn't have been pushed this far. The difference was obvious—Albert had moved earlier, and Locke himself hadn't stepped in when he should have.
That delay had shifted everything.
Drake leaned forward, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide. From within, a flesh-like spike extended, thinner and more compact than the grotesque tendrils of the Blood Clan, but no less dangerous.
It shot forward.
Blade twisted his head at the last second, narrowly avoiding the strike. His body reacted immediately, his leg sweeping out in a powerful kick that slammed into Drake's side, forcing the massive creature to stagger.
Using the opening, Blade rolled away, creating distance.
He rose quickly, his stance tightening as he faced the transformed monster. His breathing was heavier now, his expression more serious than before.
This was no longer the same fight.
He struck first, delivering a series of heavy kicks into Drake's chest, each one carrying significant force. The impacts landed cleanly, but the effect was minimal. Drake barely moved, his body absorbing the blows as if they were nothing more than light taps.
Even Locke couldn't ignore it.
In this form, Drake had surpassed what Blade could handle alone.
A voice cut through the tension.
"Blade!"
The shout came from behind.
Drake's attention shifted instinctively, his head turning toward the source. For a split second, his focus broke.
Albert stood at the top of the stairs, bow already raised.
She fired.
The arrow, loaded with the genetic compound, streaked through the air toward Drake's body. The timing was perfect—his guard was down, his attention elsewhere.
But his instincts were faster.
His hand snapped out, catching the arrow mid-flight. Without hesitation, he crushed it and threw it aside, his gaze snapping toward Albert with violent intent.
A roar followed.
Before he could move, something hit him.
An afterimage appeared in front of him, and a fist drove straight into his face. The impact rang out like metal colliding, the force behind it undeniable.
Locke's expression tightened.
It felt like hitting steel—no, something harder than steel. The recoil traveled up his arm, a dull ache settling into his knuckles as he registered the resistance.
But it worked.
Drake's massive body tilted, his balance breaking as he was forced sideways under the strike.
Compared to Blade, Locke's raw power hit harder.
....
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