A teenager with the power of a god.
"There is a powerful meta-human in New York, known as the Ice Demon. With his help, not even Lilith can stop us from bringing the Relic back to the New World."
The words of the Vlad family patriarch were soft, but they carried the weight of centuries.
The withered old man on the bed, however, was less optimistic.
"Do not underestimate Lilith Drake. She is a vampire who walks in the sun. The Witch of Gisep has enchanted her, granting immunity to silver and sunlight."
He sighed, his eyes clouded with ancient regrets. This was a family feud that had spanned six hundred years.
He had once been a monk, fearless in the face of monsters. But when he turned to dark magic to cheat death, he abandoned God. Now, he hid in the New World, watching as the Old World crumbled and new powers rose.
The Church in Europe was dormant, but the darkness was watching.
"We cannot wait any longer," the old man rasped. "The Vlad family is rotting. Our wealth buys influence, but the mortal world is squeezing us out. If I fall, the wolves will come for us."
"Patriarch," the current head of the family, Loffy Vlad, interrupted with determination. "We paid a fortune for this Ice Demon. We even sacrificed Tesla Lighting to secure his loyalty. If he fails to bring the Relic back, he will die by Lilith's hand."
"Archbishop Fiji has allowed us to take the Relic only because Lilith is pressing him too hard," the old man warned. "This operation must be silent. Fiji is a future Pope. If this scandal breaks, it will destroy him."
"We will be ghosts," Loffy promised.
The old man waved his hand, dismissing him.
He prayed there would be no war. In the age of smartphones and the internet, vampires could not survive exposure. The military would hunt them. The rich would dissect them for immortality.
Exposure meant extinction.
Somewhere over the Atlantic.
On the private jet, Vincent carried an exhausted Julia Roberts to the bedroom. She was limp in his arms, utterly spent.
He left her to sleep and went to shower.
When he returned to his seat, freshly changed, the chief flight attendant was waiting. She leaned over to pour his wine, offering a generous view of her cleavage.
"Sir, Mr. Smith called. The deal with Oscorp is finalized."
She handed him a tablet, her eyes lingering on him with a hunger he recognized. It wasn't lust for him; it was lust for his power, his wealth.
"Thank you," Vincent said, dismissing the unspoken offer. He respected greed. It was honest.
He opened the tablet.
FOLDER 1: ACQUISITION COMPLETE
Tesla Lighting & Energy is now a subsidiary of Oscorp Industries.
The news was already breaking. The media was in a frenzy, but the narrative was controlled. Money had lubricated the right wheels.
Vincent smiled. He now owned the grid.
FOLDER 2: THE PACKAGE
A single photo.
A heavy, ancient wooden coffin. Intricate carvings of dragons and impaled victims.
It was bound in heavy iron chains, and a massive silver cross was pressed into the lid, looking like a seal meant to keep something in rather than keep people out.
Vincent frowned. The image radiated bad energy. It felt... cursed.
"A coffin stolen from the Vatican?" Vincent mused. "This trip just got interesting."
Ding.
The System interface flashed red.
[NEW MISSION: DESTROY THE BLOOD COFFIN]
Briefing: The Ancient Nightwalker who sleeps within was abandoned by God and cursed by history. He is the King of the Night, the Impaler, the eternal villain. The soil within the coffin is corrupted, breeding 'Blood Worms'—the parasites of the Blood Ancestor. They are the original sin of vampirism.
Objective: Destroy the parasites and the coffin.
Reward: Purple Blind Box!
Vincent stared at the screen.
The Blood Coffin? Blood Worms?
This sounded like The Strain, Guillermo del Toro's vampire mythology. Parasitic worms that turned hosts into strigoi.
"Is the Marvel Universe merging with The Strain? Or maybe a zombie universe?"
It didn't matter. The reward was a Purple Blind Box. His last Purple Box gave him the Hie Hie no Mi. This was a must-do mission.
"System, don't blame me for being double-faced," Vincent muttered. "I promised to bring the coffin to New York. I didn't promise it would arrive intact."
He would bring it back, secure his payment, and then burn it to ash. He couldn't risk a vampire plague in New York. His women lived there.
"Wake Ms. Roberts," Vincent ordered the flight attendant. "When we land, put her on the first flight back to New York. She cannot stay in Rome."
This mission was too dangerous for a civilian.
Hotel Eden, Rome. Overlooking the Vatican.
Vincent was escorted to the penthouse suite. It was late, past midnight.
He wasn't alone.
A team of elite mercenaries was waiting in the living room.
Task Force X.
Alex Hayden (Agent X): The leader. Massive, scarred face, Deadpool-like regenerative factor.Inez Temple (Outlaw): A cowgirl from Texas with super strength and durability.Mary Zero: A mutant with the ability to be unnoticeable (though here, she seems to be a combatant).Tony Masters (Taskmaster): The skull-masked mimic who can copy any fighting style instantly.Sandi Brandenberg: A mercenary with a penchant for high-caliber pistols.
They were not happy to see him.
"I'm Agent X," Alex Hayden grunted, extending a gloved hand. "I don't know why the Vlad family hired a kid, but I follow the money."
Vincent ignored the hand. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on Taskmaster. He remembered Natasha fighting a female Taskmaster, Antonia Dreykov, in the Red Room. But this was the original. Tony Masters. The legend.
"The kid has an attitude," Mary Zero sneered.
Outlaw spun her revolvers, her cowgirl outfit leaving little to the imagination. "Maybe he's lost."
Taskmaster leaned against the wall, arms crossed, analyzing Vincent's posture, breathing, and muscle tension.
"I don't care who you are," Agent X growled, his eyes flashing with a hint of red madness. "If you get in my way, I'll put a bullet in your brain."
Vincent turned to the handler, Frank, the black-suited agent who brought him here.
"When does the cargo arrive?"
"The cargo requires extraction from the Vatican," Frank explained nervously. "You are here to assist the team. We need to be quiet. No violence inside the Holy City."
Vincent laughed. He tossed the tablet onto Frank's chest.
"My contract says I transport the cargo from the airport to New York. Extraction is your problem. If you fail to get it out, that's not my concern."
He looked around the suite with disdain.
"Also, I don't share rooms with men. And if these three women are the 'entertainment' provided by your cheap boss, tell him to try harder. I don't do trash."
The room went dead silent.
Mary Zero stood up, furious. "You want to die, kid?"
Taskmaster cracked his neck.
Outlaw laughed, a loud, raucous sound. "I like him! He's got guts."
Agent X stepped forward, his massive frame towering over Vincent. "Apologize. Now."
Vincent yawned.
"I'm going to sleep. Wake me when the coffin is here."
He walked past Agent X, crossed the hall to the opposite suite, kicked the lock—shattering the mechanism instantly—and walked inside.
The door slammed shut.
Agent X stood frozen. His telepathic abilities—limited as they were—screamed a warning. Danger. Predator. Do not engage.
"Alex?" Taskmaster asked, his voice modulated and cold. "I don't want to babysit."
"Relax," Agent X said, forcing himself to calm down. "We get the Thief, we get the coffin, we leave. We don't need the kid for the extraction."
"He's arrogant," Frank apologized, wiping sweat from his brow. "He's a last-minute addition by the family."
"Just tell me who the Thief is," Agent X demanded. "Who is crazy enough to rob the Vatican?"
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