Darkness swallowed the chamber.
Not ordinary darkness.
Not the kind born from night or extinguished candles.
This darkness felt deliberate.
Alive.
Natalie froze.
Her breathing stopped halfway.
The room had vanished.
The walls.
The furniture.
The moonlight.
Everything disappeared beneath a pressure so unnatural that even a vampire's senses struggled to understand it.
Only Damian remained visible.
Standing near the window.
Motionless.
And his eyes...
they were no longer crimson.
They shone silver.
Cold.
Ancient.
Beautiful in a way that frightened the soul.
Natalie felt her knees weaken.
"Y-your highness…?"
No answer.
Damian stood perfectly still.
The reflection in the glass remained.
The tall figure.
Watching him.
Smiling.
But now...
he could see it more clearly.
The figure was enormous.
Not in height alone.
Its presence distorted proportion itself.
Long pale hair.
Dark robes moving without wind.
And eyes...
silver.
Just like his.
Damian's jaw tightened.
"Who are you?"
The reflection smiled wider.
No voice came.
Only silence.
Then...
Wake.
The word slammed into his skull.
Pain exploded behind Damian's eyes.
His hand clenched.
CRACK.
The glass beside him shattered.
Natalie screamed.
The darkness pulsed violently.
And suddenly...
BANG.
The chamber doors exploded open.
Sirius entered first.
Sword already drawn.
Two Executioners followed.
The moment Sirius stepped inside...
his expression hardened.
The darkness reacted.
It recoiled.
As if recognizing danger.
"Damian!"
The prince turned slowly.
Silver eyes met crimson.
For a brief second...
Sirius felt something he had not experienced in centuries.
Unease.
Not fear.
But warning.
The darkness surrounding Damian shifted unnaturally.
Like smoke deciding whether to attack.
Natalie rushed backward.
"My lord!"
Sirius raised one hand.
"Do not move."
His voice remained calm.
Controlled.
The darkness thickened again.
Then Sirius noticed the window.
The reflection.
His eyes narrowed.
Nothing.
Only Damian.
Yet instinct screamed otherwise.
He stepped forward.
Slowly.
"Look at me."
Damian's breathing sounded distant.
Uneven.
The silver remained in his eyes.
"Sirius…"
His voice sounded wrong.
Layered.
As though something echoed beneath it.
Sirius ignored the chill crawling beneath his armor.
"You are hearing it again."
Silence.
Then Damian answered
"Yes."
The room became colder.
Sirius glanced briefly toward the Executioners.
"Leave."
"My lord..."
"Now."
They obeyed instantly.
Only Sirius and Natalie remained.
Damian pressed fingers against his temple.
"It wants me awake."
Sirius's expression sharpened.
"What is it?"
The prince looked toward the broken window.
"I don't know."
And that answer disturbed Sirius more than anger would have.
Because Damian rarely admitted uncertainty.
The darkness pulsed again.
Natalie gasped.
The shadows behind Damian rose...
not upward...
but outward.
Like wings made from smoke.
Sirius moved instantly.
His sword touched the floor.
A crimson glow spread from its edge.
Executioner runes.
Ancient.
Violent.
The shadows recoiled immediately.
Damian blinked.
The silver flickered.
Sirius spoke again.
"Focus on me."
The prince looked at him.
"You think I cannot control myself?"
"I think something is trying to."
Silence.
That answer struck deeper than expected.
Damian's expression darkened.
"You sound afraid."
Sirius did not hesitate.
"I am cautious."
A pause.
"Fear is for weaker men."
The shadows pulsed again.
Then...
they vanished.
Instantly.
The room returned.
Candles relit.
Moonlight returned.
The pressure disappeared.
And Damian staggered slightly.
The silver eyes faded.
Crimson returned.
Natalie rushed forward.
"Your highness!"
Damian steadied himself.
He looked exhausted.
Not physically...
deeper.
Like something had touched his thoughts.
Sirius lowered his sword slowly.
But his eyes remained sharp.
"What did you see?"
Damian remained silent.
Then...
"A man."
Sirius frowned.
"Describe him."
The prince looked toward the broken glass.
"Silver eyes."
Silence.
"Long hair."
Sirius said nothing.
"And he knew me."
That sentence settled heavily.
Natalie spoke nervously.
"Could it be witchcraft?"
"No" Sirius answered immediately.
"How can you know?"
His gaze remained on Damian.
"Because witches announce themselves."
That silence carried weight.
Then Sirius spoke again.
"You will come with me."
Damian raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds like command."
"It is."
The prince almost smiled.
"Bold."
"You are unstable."
"I am awake."
Sirius's eyes narrowed.
"You are becoming something neither of us understands."
That wiped away Damian's amusement.
The prince stepped closer.
Moonlight crossed his face.
"And you dislike not understanding."
"No."
Sirius met his gaze.
"I dislike losing people I protect."
Silence.
Unexpected.
Even Damian looked surprised.
Natalie lowered her gaze.
The words sounded too honest for Sirius.
And perhaps...
they were.
After a long moment, Damian exhaled.
"…where are we going?"
"The king."
Damian's expression cooled.
"My father."
"Yes."
The prince looked toward the moon.
Then nodded once.
"Fine."
But inside...
something still watched.
Fenrir stood near the throne when they arrived.
Scarlett beside him.
The moment Damian entered...
both parents noticed immediately.
His aura.
Different.
Sharper.
And Fenrir's gaze moved instantly toward the broken cuts on Damian's hand.
Unhealed.
That alone spoke enough.
Scarlett approached first.
"Damian."
Her voice carried concern she rarely showed openly.
"You look pale."
He smiled faintly.
"Should I take that as insult?"
She touched his cheek.
The smile disappeared.
Because she felt it.
Cold.
Too cold.
Scarlett looked toward Fenrir.
The king's expression darkened slightly.
"What happened?"
Sirius answered.
"Contact."
Silence.
Fenrir's gaze sharpened.
Again.
"Describe."
Sirius did.
Everything.
The darkness.
The silver eyes.
The voice.
The reflection.
Not once did Fenrir interrupt.
But Scarlett's face gradually lost color.
And when Sirius finished...
the throne room remained silent.
Then Fenrir asked...
"Silver?"
Damian nodded.
"Yes."
The king looked away.
That single reaction did not escape Sirius.
Nor Damian.
Scarlett spoke quietly.
"…that should not be possible."
Damian immediately caught it.
"What should not?"
No answer.
His eyes narrowed.
"Mother."
She hesitated.
Fenrir spoke first.
"You are tired."
The prince looked at him.
"That is not answer."
"It is enough."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"No."
The atmosphere shifted.
Heavy.
Cold.
"You know something."
Fenrir remained calm.
"You are not ready."
Those words hit like insult.
Damian stepped forward.
"I am tired of hearing that."
Scarlett spoke carefully.
"Damian..."
"No."
His eyes burned.
"You hide truth."
Silence.
"You speak of protection while treating me like child."
Fenrir's aura rose faintly.
Dangerous.
"You speak carelessly."
"And you speak like king before father."
That...
sharpened everything.
Scarlett inhaled sharply.
Sirius remained still.
The tension between father and son thickened.
Then Fenrir said quietly
"You know nothing about burden."
Damian laughed once.
Cold.
"Then tell me."
Silence.
The king did not.
And that...
hurt more than anger.
Damian looked away.
Disappointed.
"You see?"
He looked toward Sirius.
"Everyone speaks around truth."
Then toward Fenrir again.
"But no one speaks to it."
The prince turned.
"I am done."
Scarlett reached for him.
"Damian!"
He stopped.
But did not turn.
Then quietly said...
"When you decide I am family instead of secret…"
His voice lowered.
"…you know where to find me."
And he left.
The doors shut behind him.
Heavy silence followed.
Scarlett looked toward Fenrir.
"You should have told him."
The king remained motionless.
"No."
Sirius spoke.
"Yes."
Fenrir's gaze shifted toward him.
The room chilled.
But Sirius did not lower his eyes.
"You are losing time."
Fenrir's voice became dangerous.
"You overstep."
"Perhaps."
Sirius folded his arms.
"But I am not wrong."
Scarlett looked between them.
And for the first time in centuries...
a fracture appeared.
Not in kingdom.
Not in prophecy.
But in trust.
Deep below the castle
beneath stone older than history
something stirred.
The ancient prison pulsed.
Chains glowed.
And inside the darkness...
two silver eyes opened.
Not Damian's.
Older.
Hungry.
And a voice echoed softly through forgotten stone...
"…he remembers me."
The chains trembled.
And somewhere above
the moon watched silently.
As if waiting.