Ah. Time to take out the trash.
Ulquiorra Cifer, Arrancar.
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Michael Morbius. Morning.
The vampiress brought him to one of their refuges. Gloomy arches, Gothic décor, and heavy music. Nearly a hundred bloodsuckers occupied the space, each attending to private business. Some drank blood. Some discussed the latest news from the human world. Others pursued members of the opposite sex. Most, however, discussed the arrival of a certain hunter. The overall atmosphere resembled a nightclub or disco. Michael had imagined the leisure of aristocratic Children of the Night very differently.
"Welcome to our nest, messire," continued the fanged young woman, who had introduced herself as Tara while fluttering her eyes at him.
"It's... pleasant here," Michael said. "But do you truly spend your time so... energetically?"
"Certainly not. The young ones are amusing themselves. We elders are far more restrained and prefer somewhat different entertainment. Come."
The vampires left the hall of revelers and continued onward. After passing several staircases and two enormous guards, they entered a completely different chamber. There was no theatrical gloom or heavy music. The spacious room was decorated in pale colors and brightly illuminated. Its occupants dressed elegantly, even severely and formally. It resembled an expensive English club far more than the lair of the city's strongest vampires. Fewer than ten bloodsuckers occupied the hall. Their strength.. No. Even together, they were weaker than Morbius—but not by very much.
"Ah, Lady Tara has returned, and not alone. Perhaps you will introduce your companion?" asked a fair-haired dandy in a beige suit.
"With the greatest pleasure. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Messire Morbius. He awakened only recently, yet has already encountered that accursed Hunter."
Whispers traveled through the hall. Michael's sharpened hearing captured several. 'Awakened? Messire? Could he be one of the Ancients?' 'Can't you feel his strength? He's five times stronger than the Count, and the Count is over three hundred!' 'Hm. Morbius... 'living dead' in one of the dead languages. Interesting.' The distinguished gathering approached one after another and greeted him. The men performed elaborate bows. The women made genuine curtsies.
The student limited himself to restrained nods while his flattered ego squinted happily in the depths of Michael's being. His behavior was accepted as natural. After paying homage to the strongest, the bloodsuckers dispersed to their affairs. Tara drew Morbius into an inconspicuous alcove.
"Tell me, messire, do you intend to punish the Hunter for his insolent attack? We could assist you..."
A sweet voice, and a rather generous chest pressed against the student.
"Perhaps. But aside from your Blade, I have other difficulties," he answered thoughtfully. "Although perhaps we can help one another."
The vampire placed an arm around the young woman's shoulders and drew her closer.
"You have my complete attention."
The bloodsuckers discussed future cooperation with considerable enthusiasm. When Tara learned that one interesting device and several ingredients could create an entire army of vampires, her delight knew no limit.
"With such an army, we could conquer the world..."
Greed flashed in her eyes.
"The world? An interesting idea. Why not? Ruling the world could be most entertaining. But I will require a queen. What do you say?" Morbius smirked.
"Then what must we do, my king?"
"First, we must visit one scientist."
The bloodsuckers constructed a plan, interrupting themselves periodically for other activities no less pleasant. By nightfall, however, the scheme was complete. Morbius would steal the emitter and its first 'victim.' Meanwhile, the remaining vampires would guard the experiment site and deliver 'volunteers.' They would also provide support in the confrontation with Blade.
'Once Tara and her blood-drinking brethren accomplish everything required, I can arrange a fatal accident for them. She is pleasant enough company, but I have already chosen my queen. Besides, power is one thing no one ever manages to divide.'
Curiously, nearly identical thoughts moved through the mind of the attractive vampiress lying beside the student. Twilight gathered. It was time to begin. The first objectives presented no difficulty. Breaking into the laboratory and taking the emitter required only ten minutes. After handing the valuable apparatus to his partners, Morbius flew after Felicia. Entering the young woman's apartment was easy. Inside, however...
Michael became furious. The place practically stank of Mayer. His scent was obvious everywhere—in the rooms and the corridor. Then the bloodsucker saw Hardy. The young woman wore a light blouse and sweatpants... which also reeked of Mayer. A hoarse growl escaped Michael's throat involuntarily. At the same moment, the young woman screamed and attempted to run. An ordinary mortal could not compete with a vampire. The outcome was predetermined.
Felicia was kidnapped—for the fourth time that year.
"Bastard! Let me go!"
Who had said the young woman was pleased about it?
"Do not worry, my dear. Soon you will understand the full extent of your delusion when you see the world through my eyes. And when you bring me Mayer's heart as a gift."
The vampire growled the final sentence. Felicia said nothing. She merely watched the receding ground in horror.
Walter Mayer.
I had known Morbius could not be left unsupervised. Unfortunately, I had become too absorbed in hanging noodles on the ears of two hunters. What should I do now? I could simply fly to Michael, tear off his head, and save Felicia yet again. But it was still too early to reveal myself to her. Even Blade, with the entire city stirred into action, would search for her too slowly. Then I would help him search. Having made that decision, I turned and ran back to the garage.
"You returned quickly..." Rick began with a sarcastic grin. The old man simply could not resist making jokes.
One glance at my face made him instantly serious.
"What happened?"
Blade arrived at the noise.
"Felicia."
Seeing mild incomprehension on their faces, I clarified:
"My girlfriend. She's been kidnapped. Her abductor is moving very quickly through the air."
Nothing more needed saying. The Black hunter seized his equipment while the old man spread a map before me.
"Can you indicate the route?"
I took a pencil and drew a straight line from the young woman's apartment, extending it in the direction of the vampire's flight.
"He's heading toward the warehouses. That's not far from—"
Rick did not finish before the half-vampire practically dragged me by the collar toward his motorcycle.
"I understand the general direction. You'll show me the exact route. Can you do that?"
"Yes. I can track people I've had close contact with."
"Understood," the hunter grunted. "Let's move."
And move we did. What a maniac. His driving style reminded me of a certain Captain Katsuragi. Hm. I had been remembering her often lately. What could that mean? Still, we arrived quickly. Then someone tried to stop us. I examined Marvel's version of vampires with curiosity. Well. Underwhelming. I had expected incredibly powerful creatures—Blood Lords capable of conducting genuine slaughter or at least offering Blade a beautiful fight. That seemed logical, considering how many different 'supers' inhabited this world.
Instead, we received nothing. Some could not even fly. Those who could would have been better off remaining on the ground. They would embarrass themselves less. And the legendary vampiric speed and durability? Yes, they moved approximately three times faster than ordinary humans. That was all. They could not even keep pace with Parker, much less an experienced hunter. One vampire did attempt to take me hostage, assuming I was valuable cargo for Blade. I hoped he did not consider me a living can of food for the hunter.
He paid for the mistake, while I tested my bone blades. Yes. Venom causing convulsions and savage pain throughout the body was delightful. And how convenient it was to collect genetic information or inject cells through a blade. A miracle. I did not kill the test subject. He had been intelligent enough to think of using a hostage, and I had certain plans concerning the local vampires.
After adding a paralytic toxin, I threw the ghoul aside—but in such a way that he landed beneath the warehouse roof and would not receive an accidental dose of sunlight. Meanwhile, the hunter finished dealing with the others, and we rushed onward. At last, we arrived. I had begun to think the skirmishes would never end. The local vampires had disappointed me profoundly. They did not deserve the proud name Children of the Night. Though if they were all like this, it explained why the author of 'Twilight' remained alive.
Trash. Alucard would have shot himself from boredom. No. He would have gone to troll the Hulk. In any case, the warehouse contained two vampires and one human. The human was Felicia. At that moment, she was exercising her gift for refined language by covering Morbius and an unfamiliar bloodsucker in profanity. Blade went to the roof and ordered me to buy time. Very well. Let us talk the fangs off this charming pair.
"Oh. I see you have your own atmosphere here. I won't interrupt. I'll merely collect the young woman, and we'll leave your delightful company immediately."
Smile. It irritates everyone. Was that how the song went?
"Mayer... you came yourself," Michael hissed no worse than a snake. (Yes. Definitely an epidemic, and I appeared to be the carrier.) "How long I have awaited our meeting. I wonder what you'll feel when Felicia tears your heart out."
"Ah, Michael, Michael. First you steal my blood samples—defective samples, incidentally—and now you've begun feeding on drug addicts. Or has megalomania overwhelmed you? In that case, sorry, but the position of Dark Lord is already occupied by me, and you don't qualify as an adviser."
"Messire, allow me to tear the heart from this insolent mortal."
It appeared the vampiress disliked me too. No one loved me. Except Felicia, naturally.
"Listen, keep her on a leash. Preferably a short one. Otherwise she'll start attacking people or bite someone."
A gunshot thundered. The stranger's brains spread across the room in a beautiful fan, then crumbled dramatically into ash. The rest of her body quickly followed, leaving only a small pile of dust.
"Oh. I forgot to mention that I came with friends. You don't mind if an acquaintance of mine drops by, do you? Fellow named Blade. Heard of him? No matter. I'll introduce you."
Felicia's eyes grew wider throughout our conversation. Hm. This world increasingly resembled anime. All it needed for complete happiness were nekomimi and other adorable little creatures. Why was I concerned? They appeared later in the plan. When one of her kidnappers collapsed and decorated the floor with her brains before burning to hell, the young woman turned green. That color did not suit her. My beloved recovered from the shock rather quickly and gave me an extremely strange look. It seemed I would have much to explain.
Meanwhile, Morbius activated his toy, code-named 'Vampirizer,' and attempted to direct it at Felicia while screaming that she would belong to him regardless. He had completely lost his mind. But praise whoever deserved it - perhaps the Eternal Lady smiled upon me that day - Blade jumped onto the bloodsucker at exactly the right moment. Had his rifle jammed? Convenient timing.
Vampire and vampire hunter rolled across the floor. Excellent. Why did every conflict among remotely powerful beings, forces, or organizations in the United States—underline as appropriate—always descend into a dirty fistfight? I hurried to switch off Morbius's infernal machine. Wait. After repeated irradiation, he had fully mutated into a bat—his beast form. Peter possessed the same problem, only with a different beast form. My cells remained inside Michael. Could I observe the entire course of evolution? I aimed the emitter at the pair still beating each other.
"Move aside!"
The hunter heard my shout and hurried to create distance. I directed the beam at Michael before he could react. Hm. Fascinating. It appeared painful. Look how he twisted. Yes. Changes in the skin. My cells reported a shift in dominant genes. More or less comprehensible. Most importantly, I had observed the entire process. By then, the hunter had drawn his blade and approached the vampire. He looked at me questioningly. I nodded and blocked Felicia's view. She did not need to witness what would happen next. She had already endured enough. The sound of air being cut was followed by the crack of divided flesh. The heavy smell of slaughter became distinct in the air. And that was all.
Farewell, Michael. I would not miss him.
Freed from the post, the young woman buried her face against my shoulder and began crying quietly. I stroked her hair and comforted her with an already familiar gesture. The girl truly had terrible luck. Even my interference with canon did not help. Events continued striving to return to their accustomed course one way or another. Therefore, I needed to introduce changes that could not possibly be undone. Morbius's death would become the first such milestone.
Blade left. He still needed to cleanse the bloodsuckers' nest. I expected we would meet many more times across New York. Learning from the hunter remained worthwhile.
I took Felicia home. The young woman looked depressed, which was unsurprising considering everything that had happened to her recently.
"Walter, you'd be better off leaving me." I broke stride. What was this? "I bring nothing but trouble and problems. Like a black cat." A sob. "I'm afraid something will happen to you too." Tears.
Damn. I would have to study psychology too. How was I supposed to calm her now? It was almost time to ask the kindly wheelchair-bound uncle for instructions and training. Fine. Let us try. I pulled the young woman close and whispered gently into her ear.
"You know, that hurt. Do you truly think so poorly of me that you believe I could abandon a young woman in trouble? Especially the woman I love? As for problems, everything can be solved. The important thing is not to surrender."
"But Michael..." Felicia attempted to object.
I interrupted sharply before she could finish.
"Michael paid for his own stupidity and greed. What remained of him was a monster, not a normal young man—even one with his own cockroaches in his head. But let us not speak of sad things. You won't drive me away again, will you?"
Felicia merely pressed herself more deeply against my chest and continued sniffling quietly.
"Don't worry, beloved. I can protect you," I continued whispering while stroking her golden curls. "I promise."
Eventually, I managed to calm the victim of the deranged vampire's attack. Felicia fell asleep quietly in my arms, still fully dressed. I carefully carried her to the bed, undressed her, and wrapped her in a blanket. My beloved slept peacefully. She smiled at something and even spoke softly in her sleep. I listened.
"Walter..."
Another smile. For about an hour, I admired the sleeping beauty and guarded her rest. Night had not yet surrendered its rights to morning, though dawn was near. I still had one conversation ahead of me. The young man bared his teeth in a predatory grin and stepped through the window.
Count Federico. A three-hundred-year-old Catalan vampire.
Federico sat at the edge of a roof and watched the city awaken. Dawn would come soon. He had not seen the sun in three hundred years. But today... Today he understood that his life possessed no meaning. What had come before? He had served his suzerain faithfully and truly. In those days, noble honor had not yet become a myth, and the word 'duty' had not been an empty sound. Becoming one of the Children of the Night had been an honor offered to very few. Such a step imposed obligations: to become the Empire's shield, its blade, or, when necessary, its poisoned dagger. He had fulfilled that duty.
But there was always a 'but.' The legends of great immortal warriors had proven only legends. Conspiracies, intrigue, filth—there had been plenty of all three. Then the inquisitors came. The Count still remembered his castle burning. He remembered the people he had once sworn to protect laughing as they destroyed the 'godless spawn.'
He alone survived that night. And he took revenge. Everyone responsible for the deaths of his loved ones went to meet the Reaper. Afterward, the Count no longer had a reason to live. He withdrew and watched the world rot and gradually die. Joining one Nest and then another, he observed the old generation disappear. Fewer vampires of his age remained alive each year. Young, unprincipled psychopaths replaced them.
Why had it happened? Could his contemporaries have felt what the Count himself felt—loneliness, boredom, and hopelessness? Had they therefore thrown themselves into the most dangerous attacks, hoping that next time their luck would finally fail? That was why Federico had agreed to participate in Tara's latest adventure. Others called her Lady Tara.
Lady, indeed. She had been an ordinary prostitute in a brothel when she gained immortality. Her personality had not changed afterward. None of it mattered now. Tara was dead, as was that 'Messire' Morbius. For a moment, the Count had believed he was witnessing one of the mythical Ancients. But no. Merely another young psychopath who had acquired power. He was so tired of this life—of constant loss and disappointment.
Enough. He should have done this a century ago. Today he would see the sun again. A cold, commanding voice interrupted his sorrowful thoughts concerning an elaborate—and extremely painful—method of suicide.
"Good night, sir."
Federico turned. Before him stood the young man who had accompanied the hunter during that disastrous night. Who was he, truly? A single touch from this... creature had inflicted more pain than the Count's unsuccessful burning at the stake. Yes. Federico's biography included that unpleasant episode.
"Greetings, monsieur. Forgive me, but I do not know your name."
He bowed politely toward his interlocutor.
"Count Federico de... No. It is no longer important. What do you require?"
"My name is Walter Mayer. I have an offer you will be unable to refuse."
The voice remained cold and commanding. For an instant, the Count caught himself thinking his suzerain had possessed a similar voice.
"Forgive me, but I do not believe it will interest me. In the end, I have delayed too long already. I have not seen the sun for three hundred years."
"You wish to run away, Count? Is that truly all a three-hundred-year-old vampire can do—flee cowardly into death without accomplishing anything meaningful in his entire existence?"
The voice struck like a whip. The Count's composure broke.
"What could you know, boy—"
The vampire cut himself off. Anthracite-black eyes stared from the youthful face, without pupils or whites. Federico felt those eyes had witnessed not merely millennia, but entire ages.
"I can give you strength and power. But those do not interest you, do they? I can give you a purpose—the thing you lost and have been unable to find. This world is vast and conceals countless mysteries. Why not attempt to uncover them?"
The strange interlocutor enchanted Federico. His words penetrated the soul and changed something within it. Why had the Count never thought of this himself? He could not answer. But he knew one thing with certainty. He would not reject such an opportunity.
"Then what do you say? Will you follow me?"
The vampire lowered himself onto one knee and bowed his head.
"I, Count Federico de Valderrama, swear fealty and vow to follow Lord Walter Mayer. Show me the path, my Lord."