Ancestral Lineage

Trevor's brows knitted. "But aren't you the only member of this… new race?"

Ethan's lips curled into a smile that was equal parts madness and amusement. "Do you really think so?"

Trevor blinked, his chest tightening at the undertone in his brother's words. "…I don't get it," he admitted, though his gut was already bracing for something absurd.

Ethan leaned back slightly, silver and gold eyes glimmering. "What was I before I became this?"

Trevor answered without much thought. "A hybrid of a vampire and a dwarf…"

"Exactly," Ethan said, grin widening. "Now, forget the dwarven part. Tell me, what's the one thing vampires do best, besides blood control, regeneration, and brute strength?"

Trevor's eyes flickered in realization, his voice dropping. "…Turning someone into a vampire." Then he froze. "Wait—"

"Exactly what you're thinking." Ethan's tone was sharp, cutting through the night air. "The Primord race isn't just some accident — it's a synthesis. Vampire, dwarf, demon, and a handful of other supernatural roots stitched into something… new. And that vampire trait, that ability to turn others, is one of its core pillars. I can remake others into my race."

Trevor nearly dropped his glass. "You're kidding me."

"Of course, it's not as simple as a vampire's bite. There are restrictions. A limit to how many I can turn. This race is too overpowered to be spread recklessly. But yes, Trevor… I'm not going to be the only one for long."

Trevor let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "I fear for the future of our enemies now."

Ethan laughed, the sound deep and unrestrained. "Hahaha! Good. Because very soon, I'll be conducting a mass transformation on the family."

Trevor's face darkened with thought. "Speaking of family… don't you think it's about time you brought the wolf into the fold?"

Ethan's laughter stopped abruptly. His eyes narrowed. "How did you find out?"

Trevor smirked knowingly. "Sister Athelia can be a bit… loud sometimes."

"It seems I've been too lenient on someone..."

...

The dinner was long over, the warmth of laughter and reunion now dissolved into the quiet hum of the estate. Everyone had drifted off to their own corners of the mansion, though a faint unease lingered. They had all felt it — the earlier clash of auras from Trevor's quarters. Whatever it meant, whether it ended in peace or fracture, the outcome would reveal itself in time. For now, all they could do was wait.

Athelia's red hair shimmered under the moonlight as she strolled down the corridor, humming a sweet melody she'd picked up from Madeleine. Her steps were light, almost carefree, until she abruptly froze. A shiver ran the length of her spine, sharp and invasive, sending her instincts into overdrive.

Her ears twitched, and her aura flared subtly as she swept her senses across the halls, the gardens, and even the wards, which hummed faintly in the walls. Everything was still. Too still.

"This doesn't make sense…" she murmured, her tone laced with both wariness and disbelief.

Because in the back of her mind, she knew — infiltration was impossible. Not here. Not in the heart of their family's stronghold. Not with an Arbiter and a god within its walls, and two possessive dragons curled within the estate's aura like coiled serpents ready to strike.

Only a fool — or something far worse — would even dare to think of entering.

Her grip tightened around the edge of her skirt as she continued walking, every nerve alight.

"Did I offend someone?" she whispered to herself, half-joking, half-serious. But the way the air pressed in, the way the shadows clung a second too long… it didn't feel like a joke at all.

Only if she knew...

...

The first light of dawn stretched lazily across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pale gold and rose. A thin mist clung to the ground, curling around the roots of trees and drifting over the quiet garden like a soft veil. Dewdrops sparkled on blades of grass, catching the newborn sunlight as though the earth itself had been scattered with tiny gems.

Birds stirred awake, their songs weaving into the gentle stillness — a melody of chirps and trills that grew stronger with each passing moment. The air was crisp, cool against the skin, carrying the faint scent of damp soil and blooming flowers kissed by the night's chill.

Inside the mansion, the windows glowed faintly as the sun climbed higher, its light spilling into rooms and halls. Shadows shrank slowly, retreating into corners, while warmth seeped in, chasing away the lingering coolness of the night.

It was the kind of morning that whispered of renewal — a quiet promise that yesterday's burdens could be set aside, if only for a moment, to breathe and begin again.

...

Beyond the mansion's sprawling gardens, the empire was already beginning to stir. The skyline shimmered with colossal spires of glass and alloy, their sleek surfaces catching the rising sun and refracting it into dazzling beams that danced across the streets below. Hover-trams hummed softly as they glided along invisible tracks, their trails of light weaving like fireflies in formation.

The air was alive with a subtle thrum — the heartbeat of the city's energy grid, pulsing through the veins of skyscrapers and into the networks that bound every district together. Holographic banners shimmered to life on towering facades, projecting newsfeeds and morning market prices in shifting colors.

Merchants were already setting up their stalls along the lower avenues, their goods displayed not on wooden carts, but within hovering displays that flickered with augmented detail — meats sizzling with simulated steam, fabrics flowing endlessly in digital loops, and weapons gleaming with statistics glowing in the air beside them.

Children in sleek uniforms hurried to their academies, some walking, others escorted by small, floating drones that doubled as tutors and guardians. The streets themselves were a marvel — wide, polished pathways that occasionally unfolded into conveyor-like motion, carrying pedestrians at different speeds depending on their destination.

Above it all, patrol crafts swept lazily across the sky, their silhouettes sharp and angular against the golden horizon. They left no sound, only a shimmer of displacement as they passed — a quiet reminder of the empire's vigilance, even on such a serene morning.

From the balcony of the mansion, one could see it all: a civilization breathing in unison with the dawn, blending nature's quiet renewal with the relentless march of progress.

...

High above the bustle of the awakening empire, a lone figure stood on the balcony of a towering skyscraper, its height so immense it seemed to scrape the edge of the morning sky. The wind was brisk this high up, carrying with it the scents of ozone and faint greenery from the city's sky-gardens, mingled with the sharp tang of ionized air from the patrol crafts drifting overhead.

She leaned against the glass balustrade, her dark skin kissed by the soft light of dawn. The sun's glow caught in her long white hair, making it shimmer like threads of spun silver as it swayed gently in the breeze. Her blue morning coat clung lightly to her tall, graceful form, and the subtle movement of the fabric mirrored the rippling sky around her.

Her lupine ears twitched at every distant sound — the hum of hover-trams, the distant chatter of children, the low resonance of the energy grid humming beneath the empire's heart. And her eyes — lupine blue, deep and piercing — gazed over the empire's vast expanse, drinking in the sight of spires piercing the horizon, avenues alive with light, and the orderly chaos of a civilization so steeped in power and progress.

For a moment, her expression softened, a serene smile forming at the corner of her lips as the morning air brushed against her face. It was a rare moment of quiet for her, to stand still and admire the living organism that was the empire below — pulsing, breathing, thriving.

Her wolf's instincts thrummed faintly under her calm exterior. She could feel the city's rhythm as though it were her own heartbeat, every sound and flicker of movement sharpening against her heightened senses. And though she stood alone, wrapped in the quiet majesty of morning, her presence radiated something untamed, as if the skyscraper itself bowed in deference to the wild, regal essence she carried.

"The Primord…" she murmured, her voice carried away by the wind.

Her claws flexed ever so slightly as she gripped the railing. She could still feel it — the pulse of his aura, distant yet undeniable, reverberating through the empire like the beat of a primal drum. The wolf in her recognized it, responded to it. He had changed, ascended, and now the call tugged at her more insistently than ever.

Trevor had been right to call her the wolf. For years, she had remained at the edges, watching, waiting from afar. But now… now she could no longer remain a shadow on a balcony. Ethan's awakening had stirred something within her — not just instinct, but destiny and... desire.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting for so long." A voice drifted into her ears.