*Tap-tap*
I drummed my fingers on the table, creating a monotonous rhythm that counted down the seconds of my patience. The tips of my fingers were slightly red from the constant contact with the polished surface. Sometimes, turning off my protective shield became a sort of meditation. I was already considering flying to the Sun—literally, not metaphorically. I hated waiting, especially for those I despised. But as Ellis liked to say in her calm, professorial tone, it was the inevitable burden of a ruler.
*Tap-tap*
Nine ultra-high-resolution monitors hung around the perimeter of the wall, displaying different locations across the planet in real time. They flickered with cold blue light, illuminating the office. In the spacious room where the highest ranks of humanity sat, there was silence—tense and viscous, like the air before a storm. They sat frozen, like mice before a cat, waiting for the last person, who was late. Sweat dripped down their foreheads, leaving dark stains on the collars of their expensive suits.
*Tap-tap*
In truth, the Sun wasn't as terrifying a place as it seemed to ordinary people. It was warm, pleasant, and you felt energized, like after a good meal, as if you were sitting on a porch in some suburb on a summer evening. You could feel every cell in your body charging, pulsing, filling with strength. A good feeling. The cosmic vacuum around it didn't scare me—it was just another environment for existence. For me.
*Tap-tap*
The aura the vampire had spoken of before his head was separated from his body was something strange and unexpected. As it turned out, the soul did exist, which shocked Ellis from a scientific perspective—she spent three days holed up in the lab, trying to capture the phenomenon with instruments. What happened to me could've been called horror if I were still capable of feeling it. According to the dead informant, whose eyes still moved as he spoke his final words, my aura was like a colander, as if someone had deliberately punched holes in it—some as small as needle pricks, others as large as a fist. And the aura, as his confessions revealed, was a kind of shield for the soul. Based on this information, that might be my problem. In terms of mental protection, I was at the bottom of the hierarchy. Normally, controlling a being of my power level would require methods stronger than simple hypnosis—rituals with sacrifices, artifacts, the combined power of several Elders. But according to Telmir, if it weren't for my reaction speed, he could've taken control of me like a puppet. I hate telepaths.
*Tap-tap*
As I drummed my fingers on the table, leaving microscopic dents in the metal and wood, I awaited the President of Pakistan—the last representative of a nuclear-armed nation at this meeting. He was accompanied by three guards with tense faces, their hands constantly resting on their holsters. I could see them from here, walking and scanning every corner. I would've liked to gather them in person, but I didn't. The video conference was set up because of their fear. They were afraid to meet me face-to-face, worried I could punch through their chests with a single finger. Ellis, after listening to all the pleas from these cowardly people, nodded calmly and approved this format. It wasn't worth pressuring them too hard—if pushed wrong, they could snap back like a spring. It wouldn't affect me, but ordinary people would definitely suffer. I didn't want to kill regular soldiers again, wiping blood and body fragments off my clothes afterward.
*Tap-tap*
Military ministers with badges and medals on their chests, square-jawed generals, bureaucrats of all kinds with leather briefcases, vice-presidents with perfectly styled hair, presidents with masks of confidence on their faces—all sat silently, waiting for me to speak. They were rattled by recent events and the subsequent deployment of small forces onto their territories. They thought these were elite units for their control and protection. But these were my enhanced soldiers, their eyes glowing in the dark, loyal only to me. Their tasks were entirely different—search, protect, find, and destroy certain creatures. The demands I'd laid out had unnerved them from the first word, but they didn't even try to refuse, remembering what happened to the last person who did. And today's public execution, broadcast live for all of them, would be another lesson. The carrot of medicine had been offered; now came the stick. Though this stick was entirely unplanned.
*Tap-tap*
Suddenly, the Pakistan camera rebooted with a characteristic click, and the president appeared on the screen in person. Mohammed Ali Jinnah III, descendant of the great founder of the nation, with a graying beard and eyes full of fear. Well then.
I nodded in greeting to Mohammed, stopped tapping in the empty conference hall, and sat properly, taking my feet off the table. My leather shoes left noticeable marks on the glossy surface.
"Ladies and gentlemen, presidents and others…" I waved my hand dismissively, as if swatting away annoying flies. "You all know that recently I fought an enemy that caused catastrophic destruction in the Southern Hemisphere. Cracks in the Earth's crust, volcanic activity, tsunamis as tall as ten-story buildings. You've all seen the aftermath of our battle, when we leveled mountain ranges and created craters the size of small cities, and you understand that the threat I faced was no ordinary one…"
"Please, Sir Brandon, can you elaborate?" someone from the UK interrupted my speech, his accent betraying an elite school education. Annoying, but I didn't drag it out to avoid giving them time to come up with excuses.
"Vampires," I said sharply, watching their pupils dilate. "I'm starting a war, and all of you will participate, whether you want to or not. Parasites that have hidden for centuries, plaguing our planet by feeding on the blood of the innocent, have grown too numerous and too bold. They've infiltrated your governments, your families, your bedrooms."
I raised my head as a buzz like a disturbed hive began. I needed to let them vent their fear and disbelief. The loudest was the president of North Korea, Chen Un Wol, who had recently taken his uncle's place as leader of the most notorious country. Young, with the pleasant appearance of a porcelain doll and overly ambitious, with eyes full of greed. Those ambitions ruined him, like a worm eating an apple from the inside.
"Silence," I said quietly into the microphone, and they all fell silent, as if someone had pressed a button. Good. "Now, proof, though not required, has been sent to your secretariats; you can review it after the meeting. As you've heard, I've declared war on all vampires on this planet, and I'm starting it right now."
With a nod, I pressed a key, and an image from a video feed in North Korea appeared on everyone's screens. An office lined with redwood, adorned with portraits of past leaders on the walls. Today's demonstration.
"As you can see, this is young Chen Un Wol, a typical representative of his family. Strong, intelligent, and always wanting more. He became president after the sudden death of his uncle, who, by the way, also fell by my hand when I discovered his true nature. His brain decorated the walls of his bunker."
Meanwhile, the Korean tried to say something, his face twisted in horror, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but no sound came through. He seemed to be pleading, judging by his lip movements, tears streaming down his cheeks. The audio was muted, and those in the room began to panic. Rightly so.
The mood in the hall was grim, and the approaching storm front set the perfect atmosphere. Dark clouds gathered above me, the first raindrops drumming on the building's roof. I could've stopped it, but the rain and thunder were fitting now. Nature seemed to be preparing for the show.
*Boom!* The conference hall doors exploded, splinters flying everywhere, hitting eyes and clothes, and my soldiers stormed in. Bravo Team, second-generation guys and girls who'd undergone the "Transformation" program after Alpha. Their eyes glowed an unnatural purple, their faces expressionless. This was only half their team, but it was enough. Good kids, experienced and efficient. Seconds later, it was over.
A deathly silence hung over our conversation's airwaves, and everyone saw the bloody carnage unfolding in those moments. The soldiers moved with inhuman speed, their hands wielding blades that sliced through flesh and bone. The guards' screams mixed with the crunch of breaking bones and the sound of tearing fabric. Blood sprayed onto the walls, onto the camera, creating bizarre patterns. One guard was literally torn in half, his intestines spilling onto the expensive carpet. Russia, the USA, China, France, the UK, Pakistan, India, Israel, and North Korea—owners of the world's most powerful arsenals—seemed to realize, with some fear, whom they'd let into their bases and offices. Their faces paled on the screens, white as chalk.
"Now, as you've seen and heard, my soldiers didn't come to you for no reason. Eliot, please."
I addressed the team's deputy, and he understood immediately. Lifting the severed head of the former North Korean president, its eyes still moving and blood dripping, he pulled back the upper lip to reveal fangs hidden under a human mask. Long, sharp as needles, perfectly suited for piercing skin and veins. Convincing proof.
"Eliot, burn it." He nodded, and I turned to the presidents. "Here's something I read in a biology textbook when I was bored: the difference between friendship and violence is vast. Symbiotic relationships are when you and your partner, though different, support each other, complement each other. You live, and they live, two halves of one coin, exchanging energy, information, opportunities. It's not always easy, not always smooth, but without deadly pressure. And parasitism? It's like a black hole you're constantly sucked into. You're alive, but you're not living. It's not cooperation—it's exploitation. They take everything you have, giving nothing in return, not even realizing you're slowly dying from it. They take your energy, your soul, your time, as if you were just a battery for their endless existence. They take your blood. Your suffering is their success. Symbiosis is when both win. Parasitism is when you lose, and they don't notice you're dying until it's too late for everyone."
I pointed at the screen with Korea, where the president's body was already dismembered, neatly laid out on the table like museum exhibits.
"As you can see, dear presidents, I'm not a madman or a butcher making this up. These parasites have existed for ages, drinking our blood, killing, and manipulating us. For centuries, they've lived among us, making decisions for us, destroying those who could expose them. It's time to end this. This is war, ladies and gentlemen, and it will be the bloodiest in human history. Today, I officially declare a war of extermination against vampires. And none of them will escape alive."
---
We spent a long time planning every detail. Protect the nuclear powers, deter any desire to join these parasites, establish control over key figures, monitor activity across all continents, strange incidents, disappearances, and murders.
A multitude of small, individual tasks turned into a massive mountain that Ellis and I had to tackle. Of course, managing the entire planet between two people was impossible, but assembling a team of specialists, bases, staff, logistics, and issuing commands took considerable time.
Sleepless nights, weeks without rest, mountains of documents, and constant reports of casualties. Ellis, with her brilliant mind, worked herself to exhaustion; her lab coat had long lost its whiteness, stained with coffee and surgical marks. My eyes ached from the constant strain—keeping every major city on the planet under control was no easy task, even with my abilities.
So it wasn't surprising that no one thought about the vampire sitting quietly in his cell. He was watched, fed regular food, and every two days, two Alphas came to talk to him—one to monitor the other, with a third at the exit.
The cell holding the vampire was completely isolated—walls half a meter thick made of composite material, coated with silver, UV lamps in the ceiling ready to flare at the first sign of trouble. The Ancient sat bound in chains reinforced by my telekinesis. His once-aristocratically pale skin had dried and cracked from lack of blood, his eyes dulled, but flashes of ancient, cold hatred still flickered in them.
Everything should've been fine. I got too relaxed while distracted by issuing orders, so I missed the moment when things went wrong.
I was returning after a meeting with the British Prime Minister. A smart guy, impressed by the list of vampires in his government. The planet was in turmoil from numerous battles, some overt but mostly covert. A war against bloodsuckers was underway, with significant losses on both sides.
The air in London was thick with smoke and dampness. The night before my departure, my Alpha team had destroyed a nest in Soho. Over thirty Young Ones and three Elders—their charred remains still smoked in the sewer tunnels, filling the air with the smell of burnt flesh and sulfur. The Prime Minister shook my hand with trembling fingers when he received news of another cleanup in Manchester. His face was pale—his deputy for economic affairs, turned just a month ago, was among the eliminated.
These creatures weren't giving up easily, and my teams made up the bulk of humanity's fighting force. No one in their right mind would shell a maternity hospital just because a nest of creatures was hiding there. My people were like machines, tireless and merciless. They killed anyone with fangs.
The teams operated with surgical precision. In that Berlin maternity hospital, they infiltrated through service areas, cutting off escape routes one by one. The vampires sensed the threat too late. The first to die was a bloodsucking nurse—a silver bullet entered her eye and exited through the back of her head, leaving a smoking hole the size of a fist. Then the real slaughter began. Ashwood stakes pierced chests, laser beams severed limbs, napalm burned the most stubborn. Two Young vampires tried to use newborns as human shields—for that, they met a particularly agonizing death. The team leader personally cut off their eyelids so they couldn't hide from directed ultraviolet light, leaving them writhing under the rays as their skin smoked and bubbled, flesh peeling from their bones.
The purge was progressing with varying success, but it was progressing. Nearly a hundred Elders had been killed worldwide, along with thousands of Young Ones. But the Ancients were nowhere to be seen. It was as if they didn't care.
The remains of the creatures formed mountains at special disposal sites—blackened skulls, charred limbs, torsos turned to ash—all burned in furnaces reaching a thousand degrees. The air around these crematoriums always carried a strange mix of burnt meat and something foul. I didn't like being there.
But the Ancients… I needed at least one as an example for all. The one in my cell wasn't worth killing. No one was looking for him, no one died for him. He was a shiny trophy set aside. Even torture and death threats yielded nothing. At least he was useful to the scientists. Ellis was working on a virus to wipe out their kind, but so far, it was a dead end.
Ellis didn't shy away from any research methods. When humane experiments failed, she moved to more radical ones. I remember her injecting holy water into a vampire, drop by drop, watching black lines spread through his veins as his skin smoked from the inside. The Ancient didn't scream—they never do—but his body arched so violently that the titanium restraints on the operating table creaked. Drop by drop, needle by needle, Ellis methodically tested anything that could harm them: different radiation frequencies, metal combinations, plant extracts. The lab turned into a torture chamber, but for humanity's future, we were ready to forget morality.
Landing at Base Two, I immediately sensed something was wrong. Blood. The air reeked of blood.
The smell was thick, metallic, with a hint of decay. It wasn't just blood—it was the smell of a massacre. The air felt heavy, sticky, as if soaked in rust and fear. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up from primal horror—this amount of blood spoke of something unimaginable.
My first thought was that he'd escaped. But that was impossible—my telekinesis held the entire planet in my grasp, and he hadn't moved from his cell. Nor had anyone else on the base.
But the smell of blood persisted. In nanoseconds, I used my vision. And I saw.
What I saw made me freeze. The corridors were flooded with blood, ankle-deep in places. The walls were smeared with splatters and handprints—traces of a desperate, final struggle. The guards' bodies lay in unnatural poses, like broken dolls. Some were missing limbs, others heads. I saw Jackson, one of the Alphas—his body torn in half, intestines spilling out in a nauseating pile, yet his dead hand still clutched his modified pistol. Further down the corridor was Maria, our best tactician—her eyes wide in a final scream of terror, her head twisted at an impossible angle.
Everyone on the base was dead, and a dark presence in the prison near the Ancient showed that someone had infiltrated and killed all my people. Rage filled my mind for a moment, and I yanked the base upward.
Fury pulsed in my temples, making my blood boil. I felt my abilities resonate with my anger, amplifying exponentially. The ground beneath the base trembled, concrete crumbled, metal structures groaned under the strain. My telekinesis enveloped the entire building like a giant hand, and I ripped it from the earth's embrace.
A chunk of earth the size of a nine-story building, circular in shape, briefly hung in the air before exploding. A failsafe.
The explosion was deafening—the shockwave shattered stone and metal into tiny fragments, turning the entire base into a fiery cloud. The already-dead human bodies were torn to atoms, mixing with dust and ash. The self-destruct system, activated by my telekinesis, worked flawlessly—the thermobaric charge left nothing to collect or study.
But it was too late. The settling waves of earth, metal, and blood didn't concern me as much as the two figures standing a hundred meters away. The one on the left I knew—Karvelius, the Ancient, the vampire outcast. The one on the right was new to me, with long hair, yellow eyes like a beast's, and clothes from a past century.
Karvelius looked different from our last encounter—his skin no longer resembled parchment, and his eyes glowed with a healthy red light. He'd clearly fed on my people's blood, restoring his strength. Dark stains marked his clothes, and a drop of blood lingered at the corner of his mouth, which he hadn't bothered to wipe away.
The other figure radiated an ancient, unmatched power. His eyes weren't just yellow—they glowed with an inner fire, like two dim suns on a deathly pale face. His long, snow-white hair flowed in the air, though there was no wind. His clothing—a pristine black frock coat with a silk lining the color of dried blood—looked as if he'd just stepped out of a tailor's shop, not the epicenter of an explosion.
He lazily brushed dirt from his white gloves and turned to Karvelius. "And this is the one who declared war on my entire kind? A child?" The True One, the Progenitor of vampires, it seemed, was chastising his protégé. Though he looked much younger. A skeptical face, arrogance, and the scent of expensive perfume. He smelled like an ordinary human and appeared so under my x-ray vision. An ordinary human who survived an explosion and teleported. Interesting and infuriating.
His voice was soft, velvety, but with metallic notes that chilled the chest. He spoke with an accent impossible to place—a blend of every language in the world, yet older than any of them.
"Yes, my lord. But you yourself noticed he's unusual," Karvelius replied, turning to me, his eyes flaring with red light. "His blood, my lord, could be the key to escaping this prison. The idiots of Balius held him for two months but couldn't figure out what he is. But I know, my…"
Karvelius bowed to his lord, his voice growing guttural. The red lights in his eyes pulsed in time with his words, and I saw his teeth elongate, cutting through his gums. Drops of blood ran down his chin, falling to the ground and instantly burning small, smoking pits.
"Excuse me," I raised my hand, drawing their attention. "You can talk somewhere else, boys. Right now, it's execution time…"
I felt energy gathering at my fingertips, ready to erupt and tear these creatures apart. The air around me crackled with static electricity, small pebbles lifting off the ground and hovering in a chaotic dance.
I twirled my fingers, indicating who I meant. Kill the Progenitor. What a convenient opportunity. I'd read in books that killing one like him would automatically destroy his entire line. Charge.
I launched forward at a speed exceeding sound. The air thickened, forming a shockwave cone. The grass beneath my feet ignited from friction. The distance between us shrank to mere meters in a fraction of a second, and I saw the Progenitor's pupils dilate as he began to react, but too slowly…
"Worm," the vampire's single word froze me. "Don't dare interrupt the immortals. Continue, Karvelius…"
His word was like steel shackles, binding not just my body but my mind. I felt every muscle strain to resist, but an invisible force held me tighter than any physical chains. A heaviness settled in my head, as if a lead ball had replaced my brain, thoughts slowing to a viscous sludge.
No, no, this won't happen again. All sounds of the world faded, all senses, all powers drained away. Control slipped. I channeled all my strength, all my energy, into one thing. That same feeling when the Martian tried to control me, the same feeling that blocked technology from recording me. A switch, like a mechanism with a single function. On and off. And the long-dormant side flipped upward. On.
A hurricane of emotions raged within my consciousness. This **** won't happen again.
*Explosion.*
A wave of energy erupted from every cell of my body simultaneously, forming an expanding sphere of pure destruction. The air ionized, creating a visible glow around me—first pale blue, then blinding white. The ground beneath my feet turned to glass, melting from unbearable heat. The radiation spiked to lethal levels—any human within a kilometer would've died instantly.
The excess energy burst forth, and everything drowned in a blast of radiant power. The two figures flung backward stabilized mid-flight. The two vampires began to transform. The one I'd fought reverted to a gray creature, while the other took the form of a massive, white, grotesque bat. Wings, snout—it resembled those cute creatures, but this being was anything but cute.
Karvelius's transformation was both revolting and mesmerizing. His skin cracked and peeled in large patches, revealing gray subcutaneous tissue, more like chitin. His joints bent unnaturally with wet cracks of breaking bones. His jaw jutted forward, snapping and crunching, teeth lengthening into daggers capable of piercing armor. His eyes became pulsating red orbs without pupils or irises.
The Progenitor transformed with terrifying grace. His body didn't writhe or break—it flowed seamlessly from one form to another. His skin tightened, paling further into a translucent membrane, revealing a network of black veins. His arms elongated, fingers turning into dagger-like claws connected by white webbing. His height doubled, reaching four meters. His face stretched into the snout of a giant bat, yet retained something faintly human—perhaps the cold superiority in his eyes, now fully yellow, like sulfur.
*Scream.*
The sound wasn't an ordinary scream. A wave of compressed air slammed into me, sending me meters backward, leaving a trail as if I'd been shelled. No damage. What was he hoping for? I won't play around for long.
A charge, and in an instant, I grabbed Karvelius, the Ancient vampire, and tore his gray head from his shoulders. Igniting, I killed the enemy in fractions of a second.
The movement was so swift that even the vampire's supernatural reflexes couldn't react. I felt my fingers close around his neck, the chitinous tissue resisting before giving way with a wet crunch. The head didn't come off cleanly—a chunk of spine, coated in gray flesh, came with it. Black blood gushed from the tear, its splashes hitting my skin, hissing and smoking—it was acidic, but to me, it was just a mild burn.
The severed head in my hands still moved its jaws, eyes glowing faintly. Moments later, Karvelius's body erupted in purple flames, turning to ash. The fire spread to the head, and I tossed it aside, watching it crumble into black dust before it hit the ground.
"You…" The Progenitor, seemingly a loving father, fell into rage. A smirk appeared as quickly as my exit from the atmosphere. I felt his clawed hand seize my throat, digging into my skin. He was fast. My response was an unexpected maneuver—a sharp upward jerk, perpendicular to the ground. We shot upward with incredible acceleration, piercing atmospheric layers one by one. The air around us heated from friction, forming a fiery trail visible for kilometers. The sound of wind gave way to deafening silence as we broke through the atmosphere, where the eternal night of space greeted us with starry indifference.
We crossed the planet's boundary and shot into space.
There, we separated for a moment after my strike, in which I managed to say, "You'll follow him."
In the vacuum of space, my words couldn't be heard, but I knew he understood.
---
The void of space enveloped us, cold and indifferent. The stars were silent observers, apathetic witnesses to the battle. The Progenitor vampire hovered opposite me—a massive white bat whose wings somehow functioned in the vacuum. His yellow eyes blazed with hatred, promising me a thousand deaths. He must've loved his little son, pathetic creature.
I didn't give him time to recover. My fists, wrapped in energy, slammed into his chest. I felt bones crack, muscles tear under my blows. But he only grinned, revealing rows of needle-like teeth, then slashed my face with his claws. I thought he'd been flung back or at least taken damage, but he didn't give me time to dodge. We weren't equals, but he somehow forced me to be slower than I was.
The pain was blinding—even in space, where sound doesn't travel, I felt like I heard my own scream. Hot blood poured from the wounds, freezing into tiny crystals in the airless void. His claws weren't just sharp—they carried a venom that burned my body from within. I felt instant weakness, my energy struggling to burn out the poison.
The venom spread through my veins at supernatural speed. With each second, my reflexes slowed by fractions of a percent—imperceptible to a normal opponent, but deadly against such an ancient being. The neurotoxin blocked my synaptic connections, preventing telekinetic energy from flowing freely. My abilities operated at half strength—each telekinetic strike required double the focus for half the result. Damn creature was prepared. This venom was designed specifically for beings like me—blocking energy channels, disrupting neural transmission, leaving only physical strength, which wasn't enough against the Progenitor.
"You're strong, worm," his mental voice pierced my mind. "But I existed before your ancestors learned to walk on two legs."
I responded not with words but action. Concentrating all my power, I created a telekinetic bubble around us and crushed it. The pressure inside became immense, enough to turn stone to diamond. The Progenitor hissed in pain, his wings deforming under the invisible press. But then he did something unexpected—opened his maw and unleashed a stream of golden energy.
Our forces collided, warping the very fabric of space around us. The stars seemed to bend, their light distorting, curving around the epicenter of our battle. The explosion threw us apart with incredible force. I felt my body pierce atmospheric layers, heating from friction. Below, a red landscape appeared—Mars. Our fight had brought us to the neighboring planet.
I crashed into the surface, creating a crater the size of a small lake. Dust and rocks surged upward, forming a temporary cloud. My body ached from exhaustion and wounds, but I knew I couldn't falter now. The Ancient followed, his massive figure eclipsing Mars's dim sun. The weakness didn't fade.
The venom's inhibitors reached my brain, blocking neural pathways responsible for telekinesis. Ellis had said my powers weren't magic but a psychic manifestation of my super-brain. I should've believed her. Every telekinetic effort now required triple the energy. Scans showed 70% of my abilities were blocked, regeneration slowed by 60%, telepathic shields at minimum. My energy-based antidote fought the venom, but the Progenitor had anticipated this—the toxin mutated, adapting to my defenses. He knew my biology, my weaknesses. This wasn't a random attack—he'd prepared for this battle. But how did he know?
"You think you can kill an immortal?" he hissed, landing at the crater's edge. "I drank the blood of pharaohs, I saw Rome fall, I watched your pathetic civilization rise and collapse again and again."
I rose slowly, feeling my tissues regenerate. The wounds on my face closed, broken bones knitted. The venom, like a living thing, infiltrated where it wasn't expected.
"You talk too much for such an ancient being," I smirked, feigning bravery. My energy was low, and the venom was nearing my heart. I tried to mentally stop it, but it dodged my energy like a living thing, unrelenting.
Three major arteries were already affected by the venom's paralyzing component. My telekinetic aura shrank from cosmic scales to a pathetic hundred meters. Environmental scans glitched, producing interference. Affected brain cells couldn't accurately calculate attack and defense trajectories. My eyes saw the Progenitor in slow motion, but my body's responses lagged by critical milliseconds. Nanoparticles in the venom blocked impulse transmission from brain to muscles. The old vampire wasn't just attacking—he was methodically stripping away all my advantages.
His response was a roar that shook the Martian surface. He lunged, becoming a blur. But this time, I was ready. I raised my hands, and a slab of Martian rock rose as a shield. The Ancient pierced it like paper, but that split-second delay let me sidestep. His claws grazed my shoulder, leaving three deep gashes.
I countered, putting all my strength into a punch that pierced his chest—disgusting crunch and the feel of something viscous around my fingers confirmed a direct hit. But the vampire only smiled—sinisterly, triumphantly. His flesh began enveloping my hand, pulling it deeper into his body, like quicksand.
"Fool," he hissed. "You can't kill me with ordinary means."
I felt his body trying to consume me, some ancient magic draining my energy. I had to act fast. Focusing, I unleashed a burst of radiant energy from within his body.
The effect was immediate and shocking. The Progenitor screamed in pain, his body swelling as it absorbed the energy, then exploded, scattering flesh across the area. I flew back, freed from his grip. But I knew it wasn't over.
Indeed, the scattered pieces began pulling together, forming a new body. He was regenerating, though the process clearly pained him. His new form was smaller, less imposing—it seemed I'd drained some of his strength.
Internal scans showed critical status: the venom reached my spinal cord, blocking 85% of telekinetic centers. Neural transmission in the occipital lobe nearly stopped. I could only use my powers in short bursts, each risking overload and unconsciousness. My levitation was failing—Mars's weak gravity felt like a lead weight. Tissue regeneration slowed to 15% of normal. Life support switched to emergency mode, redirecting energy to critical organs.
"You'll pay for this," he rasped.
I didn't wait for him to fully regenerate. Grabbing his unformed wing, I spun and hurled him into space with force enough to escape Mars's gravity. A second later, I followed, catching his helplessly tumbling body in the void.
Our fight continued among the silent stars. Every strike, block, and movement happened at speeds beyond human perception. We flew through the void, pushing off nothing, using forces defying physics. At one point, our trajectory crossed an asteroid belt. I used it, telekinetically hurling massive rocks at my opponent.
Each telekinetic push cost me immense effort. The venom reached my hypothalamus—the brain region controlling telekinetic energy. Internal defenses fought the toxin but were losing. My telekinesis operated at 10% capacity, its range minimal. Telepathic shields barely functioned, letting fragments of the Progenitor's thoughts—blood, millennia of life, vampire superiority—seep into my mind. The neuroparalytic venom blocked fine motor skills—I could only manage crude pushes and grabs.
The Ancient dodged, shattered the rocks, but couldn't avoid them all. One asteroid, the size of a small house, hit him at full speed. The impact flung him toward Jupiter. I followed, unwilling to lose my advantage.
We entered the upper layers of the gas giant's atmosphere. Amid planet-sized storms and hurricanes, our battle took on a new dimension. Every movement disturbed gas flows, creating new vortices and tornadoes. Lightning bolts the size of continents flashed around us, drawn by our energy.
The Progenitor used the environment as a weapon—directing streams of scorching gas at me, creating localized zones of crushing pressure to squash me. But I adapted, learning on the fly. My telekinesis formed a protective field, and I kept striking, each blow stronger than the last.
But it wasn't enough. No matter what I did, even tearing off his head, nothing killed this creature.
My body was on its last legs. Secret energy reserves in my DNA, meant for emergencies, were nearly depleted. The Progenitor's venom was smarter than I'd thought—it adapted to my neutralization attempts, mutating, becoming more effective by the minute. My attempts to burn it out only let it use my energy to grow stronger. Telekinetic receptors in my brain degraded, nerve endings for energy transmission died off. Self-healing mechanisms worked in vain—regeneration occurred, but the venom immediately attacked new tissues. Strength, speed, endurance dropped to critical lows. In normal conditions, I could fight for weeks, months—now, it was down to minutes.
In one clash, we sank too deep into Jupiter's atmosphere. The pressure here could crush diamond to dust. The vampire fared worse—his body deformed under the colossal pressure, losing its shape.
Using my last strength, I created a telekinetic bubble and pushed us both back into space. We shot out of Jupiter like a bullet from a gun, leaving a trail of disturbed gases.
"You… are strong…" the Progenitor admitted, as we reached the relative safety of open space. "But you'll still… lose…"
His body slowly reformed, taking a more humanoid shape. No longer a giant bat, he was a tall, gaunt figure with ivory skin and eyes still blazing yellow.
My final scan showed 98% of my abilities blocked. Neural impulses barely crossed synapses. Telekinetic energy supported only basic life functions. My power, usually pulsing with might, now flickered faintly. Most energy channels were blocked or destroyed. My heart strained to pump poisoned blood. Lungs failed to function even in my created atmosphere. Muscles responded with seconds-long delays. The venom reached its final stage—systemic failure of all superpowers.
"I don't need… claws and fangs… to destroy you," he rasped.
I braced for another attack, but instead, he did something unexpected. His body began glowing from within, like an incandescent bulb. The light grew brighter, pulsing in time with a heartbeat he shouldn't have had.
"I admit, I can't… kill you… but I'll take… everything you love," he hissed. What was he doing?
I realized what was happening too late. The Progenitor was concentrating all his remaining life force, turning himself into a bomb. Not an ordinary one—I felt the fabric of reality warping, invisible threads binding the universe tearing apart. He wanted to destroy my system, killing the entire planet in the process.
He was creating a rift between worlds. I knew that feeling from the spell.
"NO!" I shouted, lunging to stop him. Everything froze, but I was too late.
It was over. With a final smirk of triumph and malice, the ancient vampire exploded in a blinding flash of light. Everything vanished in white radiance, and I felt myself pulled into a vortex, my body stretching and distorting as it passed through a rift between realities. My powers faded.
My consciousness flickered, fading in and out. I saw a kaleidoscope of worlds—universes where physics differed, where colors were sounds and shapes were thoughts. I felt my sense of orientation unravel, no longer feeling Earth.
The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was Earth—my Earth, which I swore to protect—shrinking smaller and smaller, becoming a tiny dot, then vanishing, swallowed by a chaos of colors. Everything spun like a carousel. Hours, years, or seconds later, it ended.
Darkness consumed me, with one thought echoing in my fading consciousness: I must return.
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Where do you think our unlucky Conqueror will end up?