Alone in the Womb of Blood
And then, darkness.
Everything fell apart into quiet.
His mind broke like glass, and the visions that had seconds before seared so brightly behind his eyes started to recede—dissolving into mist, immaterial and ephemeral. Memory, or dream—he couldn't distinguish which—flickered away from him like water through clenched hands. One second they were there, the next, vanished.
But something inside him wouldn't release.
A strange pain began to stir in his chest, low at first, and then it grew—a echo, not of fantasy, but of something much earlier. It was like a rope pulling at his soul, like he wasn't merely recalling a dream but living a life once his own.
That baby.
He hadn't merely looked at him.
He had been him.
He could sense it—the helplessness, the warmth of arms around him, the ache of being torn apart. And the women in the dreams—they didn't know their names, couldn't identify their faces in the moment—but the sensations they evoked lingered like scars from some ancient wound. The connection he felt with them wasn't some stranger's story. It was intimate. Profound. As if their voices had been his lullabies once. As if all their grief had seared itself into his bones.
His palms pressed against his temples, ragged breathing the weight of it all slamming into him.
"What… what in the devil.?" he rasped. "Why am I having those visions? And that infant. I was that infant. I felt everything. How can that be possible?"
No reply.
Only the thudding storm of disorientation raging within him, a deafening and savage thing. Then, piercing through the darkness—
A sound.
A voice.
It wasn't uttered. It didn't reverberate from the emptiness surrounding him—but from within. Laser-sharp. Mechanical. But infused with something else. Something more profound. Sentient. Alive.
[—Initializing Core Sequence—]
[BLOODWING SYSTEM IS NOW CONNECTED WITH HOST: 10%. 27%. 47%. 67%. 77%. 97%. 100%]
[Bloodwing System successfully integrated with Host Soul]
[Welcome, Bloodwing Heir. System bonding: Complete.]
He gasped for breath. The voice didn't sound strange—it sounded like it was meant to be in him, like it had always been within him, waiting to come out at some point.
[Host is undergoing dual-soul fusion. Stabilization needed.]
[Primary Bloodline: Vampire Royal Class—Direct Heir.]
[Secondary Resonance Detected: Ancient Dragon Core—Unsealed.]
His whole body tensed.
The viscous liquid surrounding him pulsed, as if reacting to the stirring within. It glowed warmly, thumping in synchrony with the wild pounding in his chest. Whatever was transpiring within him wasn't merely in the mind—it was body, soul, and beast.
His heart pounded as if it had sensed the beat of an age-old something—something that had lain dormant within him, poised to emerge.
"Bloodwing System: Bound exclusively to this soul signature."
"Warning: Integration irreversible. Destiny is made."
His lips opened. His voice shook. "What… what system?"
No voice answered.
There was but one remaining sound—a chime, cold and remote, resonating in the arena between thought and compulsion.
He gagged down the words. "Bloodwing?" he whispered. "Is that… you addressing me?"
[BLOODWING SYSTEM INTEGRATION COMPLETE]
His brain spun, reeling in chaos as he attempted to fit the pieces together. Each discovery gave rise to a dozen more questions, each more complicated than the previous one. Ideas cycled and knotted inside him, refusing to remain still.
He had died. That, at least, he knew with an incision cut into his being. He recalled the instant—falling, hurtling through an expanse of intolerable light. Then nothing.
Now… he was here. Somewhere else. Somewhere unknown.
The visions that haunted him weren't illusions. They were recollections. Real ones. Clear and real.
The woman—Rose—her name stuck to his chest like a burn. Her voice resonated within him, full of heat and authority, lingering like fire that would not extinguish. Another voice had awakened something even deeper. Familiar in a softer, nearly forgotten manner.
Anna.
His mother. His first mother.
Her face came back to him in a flash—more defined than anything else. Her smile's gentle curve, the laughter that filled the room, the gentleness of her fingers when she'd held his battered fingers. She'd raised him, shielded him, died defending him.
But if Rose was his mother… and Anna, too…
His heart groaned shut, the pressure of unthinkability crushing his breast.
"How can I be both?" he breathed, shaking voice.
"How am I… two persons at once?"
No answer. There was only the weight, the crushing stillness of the emptiness that filled all around him.
The blood that wrapped him—thick and dark and alien—had ceased to move. Its living glow muted to a spectral quiet, as if a heartbeat at last had ceased.
His mind wandered once more, drawn back by sorrow to Anna. The mother who had loved him without question. Who had rocked his nightmares and kissed his pain away. The recollection of her death cut a new wound within him, aching deep.
And yet, something else awakened.
Something old, emerging from under the surface of his soul. A second self, huge and strange—older than he could comprehend. Like a lost echo spanning lives, stirred at last.
Was this him too?
The cocoon pulsed with an answer—a slow, molten beat—as if confirming something he couldn't yet comprehend.
Alex gritted his eyes closed, fighting to draw air. Pressure in him continued to build, thoughts crashing in mad waves, refusing to be contained. His chest constricted, wedged between terror and epiphany.
He didn't know where he was.
Was this a second life? A vicious deception? A prison constructed of blood and memory?
The stillness squeezed in closer, interrupted only by a faint tremor—a faraway, drumming heartbeat that didn't feel so much his own. It sounded like the beat of a drum from another universe, old and unknowable.
But his coffin stayed closed.
No sliver of light seeped through.
He was underwater in the rich red liquid, weightless, suspended. His body was calm, still floating, but his mind was shattering itself into pieces—torn between the boy he once was and the man he was becoming.
Two lives. Two mothers. Two truths.
And amidst that endless, time-less space, shrouded in blood and uncertainty, Alex felt the most agonizing truth of all start to sink in.
He was alone.
Completely, destructively alone.
His eyelids snapped shut as a deluge of impossible knowledge poured into him, pounding like an icy wave of frozen flame. He could not stem the thoughts—gouged, otherworldly, too cacophonous to still.
System? What system? What's going on here? Where is my mother? What did they do to me? Where in the blazes am I?!?
Then—ragged and bruised—a name ripped from his mouth, as if it had clawed up from death.
"Anna… my mother…"
The name cracked in the silence; a breath carried into the shadows. His voice was rough, not much more than a whisper. It sounded foreign.
He attempted to shift, to stretch out—but his arms and legs would not. They drifted, heavy and far away, as if the water surrounding him had become lead. His fingers spasmed once, then went still again.
"Where… is she…?" he gagged, his throat seared. "If she perished with me… why is she not here? Where did she go?"
No voice replied. No heat caressed him. Only the coppery taste of blood on his lips and the crushing quiet closing in on him from all directions.
Then, without warning, a spasm of something icy and electrical flashed behind his eyes. Not agony—no, worse. Mechanic. Alien.
[Bloodwing System Integration Complete]
[Host Bound: Hybrid Vessel Confirmed]
[Status: Dormant]
"Wha.what the.?" He gasped, his heart racing as the voice hammered in his head like grinding metal shattering bone. "System? Bound?! What the fuck is this?!"
[System unable to execute core functions until Activation Protocol is complete]
His jaw tightened. Panic turned to rage, then coalesced into fury.
"Talk normally, for crying out loud! What's going on with me?! Where is my mother?! If she died with me—why isn't she here?!"
The blood that swirled around him beat with an otherworldly rhythm, as if it heard him… but remained silent. The sides of the coffin did not shift. No glimmering light penetrated. His cries hung in the vacuum.
And then the voice was back, detached and cold, unaffected by his terror.
[Two conditions are needed for activation:]
→ Draconic Soul or Heart… Identified.
→ Vampire Blood Ritual… Incomplete.
What ritual?" Alex exclaimed, voice breaking with incredulity. "What in the hell does that mean?! Just tell me what to do! Tell me where the fuck my mother is!"
[In order to learn about your mother, you first need to wake the System out of sleep.]
[The host will only gain access to memory clusters and data pertinent to them afterwards.]
[In order to unlock full system capabilities…]
[Host needs to perform a Blood Ritual on a high-ranking vampire woman… and sleep with her.]
His thoughts ceased.
The words echoed back—taunting, disgusting—and for an instant, he believed he'd imagined them. He gazed into the red emptiness, transfixed. A burst of warmth crept up his neck, not from lust but absolute incredulity.
What…?
No. No, it couldn't be what it read.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. The world inside the coffin seemed to tilt sideways. His thoughts short-circuited, spinning in a fog of shock and confusion.
Did it really say that?
Did it really mean it?
It felt wrong. Twisted. Impossible.
He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow—just a sharp exhale of fear.
[Reminder, Host: