The crack echoed across Darkheart Castle.
Not a normal crack.
Not stone breaking.
Not walls collapsing.
Something older.
Something deeper.
A sound that did not belong in the world of mortals.
CRACK.
The moment it happened every vampire inside the castle froze.
Servants stopped moving.
Soldiers tightened their grips around their weapons.
Even ancient nobles felt fear creeping into their hearts.
Because they all felt it.
A presence.
Ancient.
Monstrous.
Awakening.
Far beneath the castle.
Below the foundations.
Below forgotten ruins.
Below tombs that predated history itself.
Something was smiling.
And its chains were breaking.
Inside the royal chamber.
Nobody spoke.
Not Damian.
Not Scarlett.
Not Fenrir.
The revelation of the mysterious goddess still lingered in the prince's thoughts.
A goddess had protected his parents.
A goddess had vanished the day he was born.
And somehow...
Just hearing about her made something inside him react.
He didn't know why.
He hated not knowing.
The prince slowly walked toward the shattered window.
Rain hit his face.
The storm had become stronger.
Lightning illuminated the night sky.
For a brief second the city appeared below.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Unaware.
Thousands of people slept peacefully.
Children.
Families.
Warriors.
None of them knew something capable of destroying kingdoms was waking beneath their feet.
Damian suddenly spoke.
"The First King."
Fenrir's eyes shifted toward him.
"What about him?"
The prince stared into the darkness.
"How strong is he?"
Silence followed.
A dangerous silence.
Then Fenrir answered.
"Strong enough."
Damian frowned.
"Strong enough for what?"
The king looked at his son.
His expression didn't change.
"Strong enough that if he escaped at full power..."
"He could kill every vampire in this kingdom."
The room became silent.
Even Damian felt his heartbeat stop for a second.
Fenrir continued.
"Not over months."
"Not over years."
"Not through war."
The king's crimson eyes darkened.
"In a single night."
The prince stared.
His father wasn't joking.
Not exaggerating.
Not making a point.
He was stating a fact.
And somehow...
That made Damian even more curious.
Who exactly was this First King?
What kind of monster could terrify Fenrir Rake?
BOOOOOOM!
Another tremor struck the castle.
This one stronger than before.
A servant's scream echoed somewhere in the distance.
Damian felt it again.
That call.
That connection.
The thing beneath the castle.
It was pulling him.
Like a chain attached to his soul.
The prince clenched his jaw.
He hated it.
He hated feeling controlled.
Yet the feeling remained.
Growing stronger.
Growing clearer.
Almost like a voice whispering in the darkness.
Come.
The word wasn't spoken.
Yet he understood it.
Come.
The prince took a step.
Without realizing it.
Then another.
Scarlett immediately noticed.
"Damian."
He froze.
The queen's voice broke whatever strange trance had begun.
His eyes widened.
"What was that?"
Fenrir's expression darkened.
"He felt it."
Scarlett looked worried.
"Already?"
The king nodded.
Damian's patience snapped again.
"Will someone explain?"
This time Fenrir answered immediately.
"The prison is calling you."
The prince frowned.
"Why?"
Nobody answered.
Which meant they knew.
Again.
Always secrets.
Always hidden truths.
His fists clenched.
Before he could say anything...
BOOOOOOM!
The floor exploded.
A massive crack spread across the chamber.
Stone shattered.
Dust erupted everywhere.
Damian instantly jumped backward.
Fenrir moved in front of Scarlett.
The room shook violently.
Then...
Silence.
Everyone stared.
A black crack had appeared in the middle of the floor.
Not large.
Yet unnaturally deep.
No bottom visible.
Only darkness.
Endless darkness.
Then a voice emerged.
A whisper.
Ancient.
Cold.
Powerful.
Damian heard it clearly.
"Soon."
The prince's blood froze.
Scarlett's face lost all color.
Fenrir immediately stepped forward.
His aura exploded.
The entire chamber shook.
"ENOUGH!"
The king slammed his hand into the floor.
Crimson runes erupted across the stone.
Ancient symbols illuminated the room.
The whisper disappeared.
The crack sealed.
Silence returned.
For several moments nobody moved.
Then Fenrir slowly stood.
His expression was grim.
Very grim.
"The Second Seal broke."
Scarlett closed her eyes.
"Then we don't have much time."
Time for what?
Damian was about to ask.
But another voice interrupted.
"Sire."
Everyone turned.
Sirius had returned.
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The legendary executioner looked disturbed.
And Sirius never looked disturbed.
Not even during wars.
Not even while facing monsters.
Yet now...
Something had shaken him.
Fenrir immediately noticed.
"What happened?"
Sirius bowed.
Then answered.
"We found the lower tunnels."
The room became silent.
Fenrir narrowed his eyes.
"The sealed ones?"
"Yes."
The king's expression darkened.
Those tunnels clearly meant something.
Sirius continued.
"The doors are open."
Nobody spoke.
Scarlett's breathing stopped.
Fenrir clenched his fists.
Even Damian felt tension filling the room.
Open?
How?
Those tunnels were sealed for a reason.
The executioner swallowed.
"The guards disappeared."
"What?"
"Every single one."
The room became deathly silent.
Sirius continued.
"No bodies."
"No blood."
"No signs of battle."
"Nothing."
The prince frowned.
That made no sense.
Even powerful enemies left evidence.
Yet dozens of guards simply vanished.
Like they had never existed.
Then Sirius said something worse.
"There's something else."
Fenrir looked at him.
The executioner hesitated.
For the first time.
Then he finally spoke.
"Someone is already down there."
The king froze.
"What?"
Sirius nodded.
"We found footprints."
Damian felt a chill.
Someone had entered the prison.
Recently.
Very recently.
Fenrir immediately asked:
"Who?"
The executioner shook his head.
"We don't know."
"Human?"
"No."
"Werewolf?"
"No."
"Vampire?"
Sirius remained silent.
Then he answered.
"Maybe."
The uncertainty disturbed everyone.
Because Sirius wasn't guessing.
If he couldn't identify them...
Then whoever entered wasn't normal.
Far below.
Miles beneath Darkheart.
A lone figure walked through darkness.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Ancient chains surrounded the tunnels.
Massive runes illuminated the walls.
Every symbol radiated terrifying power.
The figure ignored them.
Walking deeper.
Further.
Closer.
Toward the prison.
Toward the First King.
Finally the figure stopped.
A gigantic gate stood before them.
Hundreds of meters tall.
Covered in divine symbols.
Chains thicker than castle towers.
A prison built to contain nightmares.
And behind it...
Something breathed.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Waiting.
The figure smiled.
A beautiful smile.
A dangerous smile.
Silver hair flowed down their back.
Golden eyes glowed softly.
The ancient goddess had arrived.
And for the first time in eighteen years...
She was smiling.
Because destiny was finally moving again.
And above.
Unaware.
Damian was already walking toward his fate.