Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Aaron's consciousness slammed back into his body, a surge of primal energy igniting his veins like wildfire. He took a fleeting moment to gather his scattered thoughts, his mind a storm of defiance and resolve. With a guttural roar, tattered fallen angel wings—black as the void and shimmering with ghostly obsidian light—erupted from his back. He rocketed from Blue Star's molten core, slicing through the planet's turbulent, storm-wracked sky, the air screaming in his wake. Breaking free of the atmosphere, he hovered in space, stars glittering like shards of a shattered dream around him.

"All right. Let's do this," Aaron growled, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the vacuum. His golden eyes flared like twin supernovas, radiating an untamed ferocity as he unleashed his aura in a cataclysmic wave. The energy rippled outward, warping the fabric of space, a testament to his power. For the first time, he'd chosen to face a challenge with unrelenting seriousness, casting aside his usual smirk for a resolve as unyielding as the stars themselves.

Raising his hand, he summoned a colossal torrent of blood—an ocean of crimson that churned with unnatural vitality, vast enough to drown Blue Star in its entirety. The scarlet tide pulsed under the starlight, a living force of destruction that seemed to hum with Aaron's own heartbeat.

"Here goes!" he bellowed, his voice a thunderclap that reverberated through the void. With a flick of his will, the blood surged, vibrating at an insane frequency until it morphed into a planet-shattering drill. Its crimson edge spun with apocalyptic fury, ready to tear through anything in its path.

"You there! What do you think you're doing?" a calm yet commanding voice sliced through the cosmic silence, freezing Aaron mid-action, his blood drill hovering like a predator poised to strike.

He spun around, wings flaring wide, their ethereal feathers cutting through the void. Four towering figures stood atop a mount floating in the emptiness, their silhouettes radiating divine power. Their eyes gleamed with the arrogance of gods, gazing at Aaron as if he were a mere speck beneath their celestial judgment.

"None of your business," Aaron snapped, his tone dripping with defiance as he turned back to his task. Courtesy? That was a two-way street, and as long as they dared to look at him with contempt, he'd throw it right back in their faces.

"What do you think you're doing?" he shot back, his voice cold as the void, the group's presence grating on his nerves like a blade on stone. One of them, wreathed in searing heat, hurled a volley of purple flames that scorched the space between them, leaving trails of molten light.

"We asked you a question," Ignis said, his voice as frigid as a dying star, his fiery eyes narrowing with barely concealed irritation. Something about Aaron set him on edge—perhaps the brazen arrogance in those golden eyes or the way Aaron dismissed their divine authority without a flicker of fear.

"Fuck off. I owe you nothing," Aaron snarled, his lips curling into a sneer. With a sharp gesture, he sent the blood drill hurtling toward the group, its crimson spiral roaring with destructive intent, ready to obliterate anything in its path.

Ignis raised a hand, conjuring a single spark of black flames, deceptively small yet pulsing with apocalyptic energy. The spark collided with the blood drill, and in a blinding instant, every drop disintegrated, reduced to nothingness before it could even graze them.

"How do you wield blood like that? What race are you?" Rhaigon demanded, his draconic aura unfurling like a storm, its oppressive weight warping the space around him, making the stars flicker.

"Shut up and stop asking me questions," Aaron growled, crossing his arms over his chest, his wings twitching with barely restrained fury.

"Guess I'll have to teach you a lesson or two," Ignis said, his voice icy as he levitated from the mount's jagged crest, his presence a blazing inferno of menace.

"You guys must be slow. Am I the only one seeing those fangs? It's obvious he's a vampire," Loki said, his sly tone laced with frustration as he gestured at Aaron's sharp canines, glinting under the starlight.

"A vampire?" Rhaigon asked, his frown deepening, suspicion etching his angular features like cracks in stone.

"Have you forgotten the treaty? Vampires are forbidden from leaving their planet without a permit," Thor said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of divine law, his stormy eyes unyielding.

"What treaty? I do whatever I damn well please," Aaron shot back, his temper flaring like a supernova, his golden eyes blazing with defiance that could rival the gods themselves.

"That's not the point. How can he manipulate such a vast amount of blood? The night stalkers I've encountered couldn't dream of such a feat. Only one vampire clan has ever been that proficient," Loki mused, his analytical mind piecing together the enigma that was Aaron, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

"Come to think of it, Baal once mentioned a pregnant Valira whose fate was unknown," Loki added, a sly, intrigued smile curling his lips as he studied Aaron like a puzzle begging to be solved.

Without warning, Thor swung Mjolnir with godlike strength, the hammer tearing through the void at blinding speed, a trail of crackling lightning illuminating the darkness as it aimed for Aaron's heart.

"That's it!" Aaron roared, fed up with the group's relentless interference. He thrust his hand forward, intending to catch Mjolnir in a brazen act of defiance, his blood boiling with reckless courage.

[Dodge, idiot!] the system's voice blared in his mind, sharp and urgent, cutting through his haze of anger.

Splat!

Mjolnir struck, pulverizing Aaron's outstretched arms into a bloody mist, the force rippling through his body until he dissolved into a crimson haze drifting in the void, his essence scattered like ash among the stars.

"Seriously, brother? You could've let us capture him and ask questions," Loki complained, rolling his eyes with theatrical exasperation, his hands on his hips.

"Descendants of Dracula must be killed on sight. You know the rules," Thor said, his tone unyielding as iron as he extended his hand, Mjolnir returning to his grip with a low, resonant hum.

"Guess I overestimated myself," Aaron muttered, his body reforming in an instant, blood and mana knitting together seamlessly to restore his form. His golden eyes gleamed with unquenched defiance, undeterred by his brutal defeat.

"Will you look at that?" Loki said, a grin spreading across his face, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he leaned forward, ready to savor the unfolding spectacle.

"I'll have to take this seriously," Aaron said, his expression hardening into a mask of resolve as he summoned Excalibur from his inventory. The legendary blade pulsed with an eerie, silver-blue light, its edge humming with ancient power.

"Eclipse Slash!" he bellowed, swinging Excalibur with lethal precision, unleashing his newest skill. Every drop of mana within him drained in a heartbeat, leaving him hollow for a fleeting moment before surging back to its peak, his body thrumming with renewed vigor.

[Using an ultimate as your first attack? You've betrayed the culture,] the system jabbed, its tone dripping with mock disapproval, as if scolding a reckless child.

"More like I'm fixing the culture," Aaron snickered, his grin brimming with satisfaction as he watched the anti-mana slash—a shimmering crescent of void-black energy—rocket toward the group, tearing through the fabric of space itself.

"Why are you smiling?" Loki asked, his own knowing smile mirroring Aaron's, his eyes glinting with amusement.