Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

"Found it."

Aaron's voice was calm as he rose to his feet, golden eyes gleaming faintly.

"You are not going anywhere!" the Abyss God snarled, his form blurring into existence before Aaron. He didn't know what the human planned to do with the core, but instinct told him it would spell disaster.

Aaron hardly spared him a glance. "Alright, I'm done with you. If he attacks me again—kill him." His tone was casual, but his words were absolute, directed toward the unseen shadow lurking at his side. He resumed walking as if the god was nothing but a noisy obstacle.

"I said…" The Abyss God's voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "…I'm not letting you leave."

At the center of his forehead, a third eye snapped open, glowing red with a suffocating aura that warped the air around it. Malice radiated from the eye, its gaze locking onto Aaron. It sought to tear his very soul out, to strip him bare before the abyss. This was no probing strike—this was the Abyssal Eye, his ultimate weapon.

"Urgh!" The Abyss God's cry of agony cut through the chamber. His third eye, the source of his power, split apart by a jagged slash of shadow that severed it clean in two.

The god staggered, disbelief and rage twisting his features. "Who the hell dares…to screw with me?!" His patience shattered, the throne room shook with his fury.

From the darkness, a voice answered, calm and unyielding. "Oblivion."

The dagger struck before the god could move—piercing straight through his heart. Behind him, space itself collapsed, birthing a black hole that devoured his body and essence alike, leaving nothing behind.

Aaron raised a brow, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "Oblivion, huh. You just became a very big game-changer in my plans." His words dripped with satisfaction.

Unbothered by the vanishing of a god, Aaron strode forward. The Abyss kin outside, feeling their deity's death, recoiled in terror. None dared to stand in his way.

At last, he reached the vault door. A single keyhole gleamed at its center, waiting. Aaron slid the abyss key into place. With a heavy click, the lock turned, the door groaning open.

Inside lay a grotesque sight—a massive black heart, pulsing with unnatural life, veins stretching into the walls like roots feeding off the dungeon itself. Each beat echoed like a war drum.

"That's the core?" Aaron asked, voice tinged with disbelief.

[Yes. That is the core of the Abyss—the Abyss Heart.]

Aaron grimaced. "Don't tell me I have to eat that thing. I swear I'll puke." His expression twisted in disgust.

[You've eaten the hearts of countless beings already. What's so disgusting about this one?] the system asked flatly.

"This is different!" Aaron shot back, irritation flashing in his eyes as he tore the heart free from its chains of vein and artery. The chamber shuddered at its removal.

His punishment had been a farce. The truth was always this—the core itself.

Without hesitation, Aaron sank his teeth into the Abyss Heart. The taste was bitter, corrosive, and overwhelming, but satisfaction spread across his face. Victory had never tasted so foul—and yet so fulfilling.

"And that's the reason we give out lo—" His voice broke, strangled mid-sentence as his vision warped.

"Urghhhh!" Aaron's body convulsed violently. Power he couldn't contain tore through him, ripping apart every vein and muscle. Pain unlike anything he had endured raked his body, dragging screams from his throat.

Barely conscious, he ripped open a rift to the sanctuary and stumbled through, collapsing as the agony consumed him.

His transformation began. His hair lengthened, shining with an otherworldly luster. His skin glowed faintly, more flawless than the Primogenitor of the Nightstalkers. His very frame, already perfect, refined itself further toward an unnatural ideal.

His blood boiled, every cell vibrating violently, as though each drop was a star desperate to burst free. His mind cracked under the flood of energy, psychic waves lashing out uncontrollably. Thoughts of every soul within the sanctuary bombarded him at once, a storm of voices clawing at his sanity.

On his back, black fire seared his flesh, etching a vast tattoo—a dragon with a lion's mane, curling from shoulder to waist. The mark throbbed with power, linking him to something ancient, something not of this universe.

Each cell of his body died and resurrected, stronger and sharper. His inherited four vampire bloodlines surged awake, roaring into existence. Only his true bloodline—the deepest one—remained dormant, slumbering.

The pain did not end there. The rampaging energy tore deeper, reaching past flesh and blood, into his soul.

Aaron collapsed into unconsciousness. His awareness slipped into a different plane.

A world of silence. His soul realm.

Before him loomed a colossal prison, its bars woven from the very mana of the world, suffocating his essence. And within that prison—five figures.

The five bloodlines of Aaron.

Four of them were gaunt and malnourished, naked and frail, yet each bore traits of their gifts—one radiated brute strength, another pulsed with blood, the third emanated psychic dominance, the fourth whispered with the aura of familiars.

The fifth, however, was unlike them all.

It was no ordinary vampire. Its body was a perfect fusion—a vampire and a werewolf intertwined. Tall, broad-shouldered, with regal poise. It wore clothes while the others were bare. Its eyes gleamed with quiet authority. This was the hybrid.

Unlike the others, it was not shackled by weakness. It sat calmly in the center, energy leaking from its being, corroding the prison little by little.

Aaron's eyes narrowed. He could see it—the hybrid was deliberately weakening the mana prison, giving the other bloodlines a chance to slip free.

The progress was slow. But then, everything changed.

A surge of power crashed into the prison like a tidal wave. The hybrid seized the moment, siphoning the energy, smashing through the cracks. One by one, the four weakened bloodlines slipped free, leaving only the hybrid and Aaron's soul bound together.

Days seemed to pass in that instant as the hybrid drew more energy, splitting it between itself and Aaron's soul, shattering the prison once and for all.

The torrent did not stop. Instead, the hybrid diverted it, channeling it into the other bloodlines. Their forms grew stronger, their malnourished frames hardening. Above each of their heads, a star slowly took shape—glimmering, incomplete, but growing.

The hybrid did not strengthen itself further. It sacrificed, feeding every drop of energy to its kin. Under its guidance, the stars completed, shining proudly above the four.

Then, a fifth star appeared—this time above Aaron's own soul. Unlike the others, it was incomplete, only a quarter formed, but radiant nonetheless.

The last of the energy faded, the prison in ruins, the stars blazing overhead.

And then Aaron was hurled back to consciousness—his body, soul, and bloodline forever changed.