Outside the movie theater, Noah suddenly tensed.
A chill ran through him—sharp and instinctive, like prey sensing a predator.
Camilla was staring at him.
Her gaze locked onto him with unnatural intensity, something feral lurking behind it.
What the hell is wrong with her?
Noah frowned, shifting slightly to place himself between her and Gwen.
"Hey… what's wrong?" Gwen asked, noticing the change in him. When she looked up, his expression had gone completely serious.
"I'm not sure," Noah said quietly. "Go inside. Now. Something feels off."
Gwen followed his line of sight and spotted Camilla in the distance. The woman's beauty was striking—but there was something wrong with the way she stood there, watching.
A dozen questions flashed through Gwen's mind.
But she didn't argue.
"Okay," she said, heading inside the theater.
Through Camilla's eyes—
Something ancient was watching.
Noah stood out like a beacon.
To that presence, he was impossible to ignore.
His body radiated vitality—dense, overwhelming. Not just strong, but enduring in a way that bordered on unnatural. His potential burned even brighter, far beyond anything it had encountered in a long time.
This one…
The thought lingered.
He would make a perfect convert.
If brought into its lineage, shaped and cultivated over time, he could grow into something extraordinary. Something powerful enough to rival even the being observing him now.
Desire flared.
This wasn't part of the plan.
But it was too valuable to ignore.
Still—
The body it was using wasn't enough.
Camilla couldn't take him.
Not even close.
So it made a decision.
Call for more.
Noah was already moving.
The moment he saw her expression shift, his instincts kicked in.
He closed the distance in a blur—
And grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground.
"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.
The shift was immediate.
The presence vanished.
Camilla blinked, her awareness snapping back into place.
She found herself dangling in the air, Noah's grip tight around her neck.
"What are you doing?" she choked out. "I didn't do anything!"
"You don't remember?" Noah narrowed his eyes. "You were staring at me like—like something else was looking through you."
Camilla frowned, trying to piece it together.
"…I think I felt something," she said slowly. "Like… something big. Like it was watching."
Her gaze flickered. "It felt like the Blood God."
Noah exhaled quietly.
That confirmed it.
The ritual had reached its final stage.
But something about this didn't line up with what he remembered.
Either things had changed—
Or something had interfered.
People nearby had started to notice.
Noah released her.
"You were acting strange," he said, keeping his voice low. "Stay here. We're leaving together later."
Camilla rubbed her throat, still confused. "What about your date?"
"No point now," Noah replied. "Whatever's happening tonight takes priority."
Without another word, he turned and headed inside the theater.
At the center of the city—
The massacre continued.
Vampires fell in waves under the military's assault, reduced to ash or collapsing under chemical agents.
But inside—
The ritual had already succeeded.
Deacon Frost stood at the heart of it all, arms spread wide, drinking in the power surging through him.
It worked.
Every drop of blood, every sacrifice—it had paid off.
He wasn't the same anymore.
His entire existence had been rewritten.
A new apex.
A new origin.
"Frost!" one of the vampires shouted, panic in his voice. "The humans are almost inside! If this didn't work, we're all dead!"
Frost smiled.
"Oh, it worked."
And then he moved.
He vanished.
A blur shot through the chamber and out into the corridor beyond.
Outside—
The first wave of soldiers had just reached the entrance.
Then—
Something passed through them.
Too fast to see.
The air shifted.
And a second later—
Heads fell.
Dozens. Then hundreds.
Blood sprayed across the marble floor as bodies collapsed in unison.
Silence lasted only a heartbeat.
Then chaos erupted.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Unknown hostile!"
"Stay sharp—stay sharp!"
No one had seen him.
And that was the problem.
They didn't even realize what they were facing.
A laugh echoed from above.
All eyes snapped upward.
Frost stood atop a chunk of broken stone, his eyes completely red, his entire demeanor changed.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the thick scent of blood in the air.
Then he dropped down.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
No hesitation this time.
Silver rounds poured into him from every direction.
The impact tore into his body—round after round embedding into his flesh.
But he didn't move.
Didn't defend.
Didn't even flinch.
The barrage went on for several seconds.
Then—
He flexed.
Every muscle in his body tightened at once.
The bullets shot back out.
Hundreds of them.
Faster than they'd gone in.
The soldiers didn't even have time to react.
They were cut down where they stood.
Frost remained standing, blood flowing briefly before sealing shut as his body regenerated.
Not a mark left behind.
He bared his fangs, stepping forward.
Ready to finish it.
Then he stopped.
Something pulled at him.
A direction.
East.
He frowned, staring at the wall as if he could see through it.
There was something there.
Someone.
A man.
A voice, deep in his mind, told him the same thing over and over—
Find him.
Turn him.
No matter what it costs.
Before he could act—
The ground trembled.
Frost turned, confusion flickering across his face.
Behind him, the remaining vampires poured out from the ritual chamber.
Thousands of them.
All moving in the same direction.
East.
"What are you doing?" Frost snapped. "Have you lost your minds?!"
But they didn't stop.
Didn't even hesitate.
They ran past him like a tide, driven by something far stronger than reason.
For the first time since his transformation—
Frost felt it.
Something slipping out of his control.