Late Afternoon in Budapest, a light drizzle falls.
Kenthelion stands atop an old building's roof across from the subway station, clutching a black umbrella against the mist dampening the city. From his vantage, his gaze fixes on a striking figure on the opposite roof—and he cannot look away.
A woman.
She wears a tight black leather jacket that accentuates her athletic curves, with long legs that seem to merge seamlessly with the night and rain. Her movements exude a clear, cool elegance.
She is no ordinary woman.
She is Selene, the Moon Goddess.
Kenthelion's eyes narrow slightly. Selene has noticed him too. Slowly, she turns toward him. Their gazes meet through the fine rain, and Kenthelion raises a hand in greeting.
But Selene's response is nothing he expects.
Without a word, she turns on her heel and walks away, not even glancing back.
Kenthelion is silent. His smile fades, replaced by a neutral expression.
So arrogant...
He exhales softly and murmurs, "Seems I'll have to teach you a little lesson about '017' later."
> (Author's note: In the Underworld films, the code "017" serves as a symbol or identifier in the vampire–Lycan conflict, though not explained in detail. Here, it holds special meaning within their world.)
Kenthelion closes his umbrella and descends from the rooftop, heading toward the subway entrance.
But as he reaches the door, chaos unfolds.
People rush out from the station in panic, screams and shouts overlapping, echoing through the concrete corridors.
Kenthelion glances briefly before slipping inside. He knows... vampires and Lycans have begun fighting.
Pushing through the crowd, his eyes immediately find Selene amid the battle. She moves with shadow-like speed, each shot from her pistol striking true with lethal precision. Her black hair whips around her as her silhouette cuts a mesmerizing figure against flames and flickering lights.
Kenthelion leans against a wall, watching calmly, as if nothing could disturb his serenity.
Suddenly, a muscular Lycan bursts from the darker end of the corridor, targeting him.
With astonishing reflexes, Kenthelion draws a bolter from beneath his coat and fires without turning. The shot strikes the Lycan's head, halting its charge instantly. The massive body collapses to the floor, motionless.
A silver bullet coated with nitrate and infused with Aetherion energy finishes the job perfectly.
Kenthelion puffs the smoke from his pistol's barrel and lets a faint smile play on his lips.
"A foolish first attack."
Selene hears the shot beside her. When she glances over, her icy sky-blue eyes lock onto the silhouette she had seen on the rooftop—Kenthelion.
Calmly, he fires that strange, large pistol—an amalgam of military and extraterrestrial technology. A glowing round penetrates a Lycan's skull, stopping it in its tracks. Kenthelion doesn't even look directly at the target as he fires, as though he knows exactly where the bullet will land.
Selene studies him, curiosity and question in her gaze: Who is this man?
Before she can ponder further, a roar shatters the air.
More Lycans, enraged at one of their own felled by a human's hand, charge recklessly toward Kenthelion. Six or seven surge forward like a black wave—feral, bloodthirsty, heedless of death.
Kenthelion snorts in mild annoyance.
He pivots, lifts his bolter, and unleashes a short burst. Each shot finds a head; each Lycan falls before it reaches him.
He does not even need to draw the chain sword strapped to his back.
Bodies lie scattered around him, a horrifying sight—yet in its own way, strangely beautiful.
Kenthelion blows a kiss toward Selene, still standing across the fray, watching it all unfold.
"For you, Moon Goddess," he says with a mischievous grin.
Selene does not return the smile.
Instead, she raises her pistol and fires at him.
Tat-tat-tat!
A few rounds strike the concrete near Kenthelion's feet, chipping stone and sending dust into the air. Not one bullet grazes him.
Kenthelion remains utterly still. He knows... her aim is not to kill him.
"My dear... how cruel of you to shoot at me like that." His tone is flat, as if joking, yet edged with a teasing sharpness.
Selene stares at him sharply.
"Do you wish to die? You have no idea what you're dealing with. Humans like you should not meddle. Leave before you get killed."
Kenthelion chuckles softly. "I'm not afraid of Lycans... but it seems your friends ought to be afraid. See for yourself."
Selene whirls her head—and her expression changes.
One of her vampire allies lies dead. Another is being dragged off by a large, dark-gray Lycan, claws rending the poor vampire's body as blood splatters the station walls.
"Ryze," Kenthelion murmurs quietly. "Lucian's trusted general. No surprise."
Selene raises her pistol and fires, trying to save her comrade.
Too late.
The Lycan's claws already tore the vampire apart; crimson sprays stain the station's concrete. The body falls lifeless to the floor.
Kenthelion does not move. He merely shifts his gaze to another shadowed pillar deeper in the corridor.
There, someone hides.
Michael.
The half-vampire man tends a wounded woman, eyes wide with fear, confusion—and Kenthelion watches him silently.
But he does not approach. Not yet.
Minutes later, as the battle subsides, the remaining Lycans retreat into the dark subterranean tunnels.
Selene steps forward, her gaze sweeping over Kenthelion's body, then turning to Michael. She speaks no word. In silence, she turns and departs, her silhouette fading into mist and debris.
Kenthelion watches her leave, then allows a small smile. He knows this is not the end.
They will meet again.
And as long as Michael lives, Selene will appear.
Selene narrows her eyes, curiosity burning within. Why have the Lycans suddenly targeted a lone human? Something unusual is unfolding, and she senses it. Moreover... the man who unsettled her earlier—he is different.
None have dared tease her for centuries. Yet that human, or whoever he truly is, treats her not as a threat but as someone worthy of provocation.
And that both irritates and intrigues Selene.
If he dares toy with her again, she vows to show him how to deal with a vampire of her caliber.
---
Meanwhile, Kenthelion has exited the dim, cold subway station. He walks to an open area and, with Aetherion energy flowing calmly in his palm, opens a warp portal.
A futuristic sports car glides out of the swirling light—sleek, powerful, a signature model from Wandering Earth technology. One of his personal collection stored in his warp garage—and only one among many luxury vehicles he has customized for inter-universe travel.
Nonchalantly, Kenthelion drives through the night city toward Michael's neighborhood.
Arriving at the old yet well-kept building, he parks without hurry and ascends to the fifth floor. In front of door 510, he retrieves a key from his pocket and opens it with a click—no resistance.
Inside, the apartment is simple, even a bit bare. But something catches his eye: a small photograph on the table.
A woman. Michael's ex-girlfriend.
Beautiful, Kenthelion thinks. Yet the photo's aura reveals wounds and memories behind the frame. A pity their relationship ended. But such is human life: fragile, mutable, and... full of drama.
He picks up a book from the table, collapses onto the sofa, and begins reading to pass the time. The ticking clock merges with the soft rustle of turning pages. But soon, footsteps echo outside the door. Someone returns.
The door opens slowly.
Selene enters, her steps measured and alert, but her eyes widen when she sees Kenthelion seated calmly, as if awaiting her arrival for ages.
Selene's gaze is sharp.
Selene:
"You? What are you doing here?"
Kenthelion (lazy smile):
"Why not? Am I not allowed here? Is this your home? Or... perhaps my wife is looking for me?"
His tone teases again, a spark that kindles Selene's emotions.
Selene (hissing):
"Do you wish to die?"
In one swift motion, her pistol points at Kenthelion's temple. Her cold eyes blaze, proving she is no woman to be underestimated.
Kenthelion remains unfazed. Instead, he leans back more casually.
Kenthelion (thin smile, calm voice):
"My dear, don't be so tense. Michael is already back."
With a subtle but decisive move, Kenthelion deflects Selene's pistol to the side. Then, before the vampire can react, he steps forward and slips his hand around her slender waist. His touch is warm, a stark contrast to Selene's cold aura.
Kenthelion (low, teasing):
"Don't be so harsh. I just wanted to embrace my wife..."
Selene (soft sigh, then brushing his hand away):
"Leave."
But before tension can escalate further, the door opens again. Michael appears, face weary, then tenses at once. His eyes go wide seeing Selene and the mysterious man from the station—now standing in his living room.
Without thinking, Michael attempts to flee.
Kenthelion (without turning, relaxed):
"If you dare run, the beauty here will shoot."
Michael freezes. His face pales. Fear roots him to the spot. Kenthelion approaches slowly... then brings him down with a swift move. Michael winces, unable to resist.
Selene (raising her pistol again, eyes full of menace):
"Who are you, truly? What are you doing?"
Kenthelion meets her gaze directly, now without a smile—only an eerie calm radiating from his eyes.
Kenthelion:
"My name is Kenthelion... and I am your husband."
Those words make the world seem to stop. Selene is stunned. This man's expression is earnest, not joking. Yet that only ignites her anger and confusion further.
Selene:
"You're talking nonsense! Believe it or not, I could pull the trigger right now."
Kenthelion (raising a hand, calm):
"Relax. Sit down. I will explain everything. I don't want any misunderstandings."
Though he knows vampire bullets cannot kill him, a confrontation now would only muddy matters. He needs Selene... to listen. To trust.
After tense seconds, Selene finally inhales and sits. Her face remains guarded, but now a spark of curiosity grows.
Selene:
"Fine. But we talk now. What do you want from Michael?"
Kenthelion (looking deep into her eyes):
"The question should be: do you know the origins of vampires and Lycans?"
Selene (frowning):
"What do you mean?"
Kenthelion:
"Vampires and Lycans stem from a common ancestor... an immortal human named Alexander Corvinus."
Selene springs to her feet.
Selene:
"That's impossible! We hate Lycans. There's no way we share the same root!"
Her voice echoes with emotion. But Kenthelion remains seated calmly, as one who has witnessed truths far broader than the millennia-long war between these two immortal races.
Kenthelion (soft yet cutting):
"That is what they want you to believe... so that this war never ends."