Morrigan: Year 3101.

The car sputtered and groaned as Morrigan guided it through the winding mountain roads. Kazuo stared out the window, his mind still distraught from the past car chase. The vehicle lurched and coughed, sparks flying from its undercarriage as it struggles to keep up the pace.

As they climbed higher into the mountains, a cabin came into view. It was a simple two-story structure, its exterior dominated by expansive glass walls that reflected the surrounding wilderness. Morrigan eased the battered car to a stop, the engine giving one final whine before falling silent.

Without a word, they exited the vehicle. Morrigan approached a panel beside the door, clicking a sequence of codes into it's interface. The door slid open with a soft hiss and they filed inside, greeted by a minimalist interior that seemed at odds with the rugged landscape outside.

Siobhàn made a beeline for the couch, sinking into its cushions with a barely audible sigh. She reached for a remote, bringing the TV to life. The low murmur of a news broadcast filled the otherwise silent cabin as Kazuo and Morrigan stood, taking in their new surroundings.

"... unprecedented attack on law enforcement. Eyewitnesses report seeing a rocket launcher used against police vehicles during the high-speed pursuit on the A86. Authorities are still searching for the suspects, who managed to evade capture. The incident has raised serious questions about security and the potential presence of military-grade weapons on Parisian streets."

Morrigan walked to the refrigerator, pulling it open. "Siobhàn, what do you want to eat?"

She stretched out on the couch. "Got any of that weird cheese you bought last time? The one that smells like feet?"

"Roquefort? Yeah, there's some left."

"Perfect. Slice me up some of that with some of those fancy crackers."

Morrigan nodded, then turned to Kazuo. "What about you?"

Kazuo didn't respond. He stood motionless, eyes fixed on the floor, lost in thought.

"Kazuo?" she tried again.

Still no answer.

Siobhàn glanced over. "Hey, Earth to Kazuo. Morrigan's asking if you want food."

Kazuo blinked, looking up. "What? Oh. No. I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something," Morrigan said. "It's been a long day."

"I said I'm not fucking hungry," Kazuo snapped. "My friend is dead. I can't just... eat cheese and pretend everything's fine."

Siobhàn and Morrigan exchange glances.

"Look, we get it," Siobhàn muted the TV. "It's shit. But starving yourself won't bring her back."

Kazuo glared at her. "You don't get it. You don't know anything about Yuki. She was brilliant. She had her whole life ahead of her. And now she's gone because of me."

"It's not your fault," Morrigan said.

"Bullshit. If I hadn't dragged her into this..."

"Then they would've found another way to get to you," Siobhàn interrupted. "These bastards don't play fair. They would have targeted another person close to you if they have to."

"I need some air," Kazuo walked to the door, yanking it open and stepping outside.

He leaned against the railing of the cabin's porch, his breath forming small clouds in the cool mountain air. The forest stretched out before him, a sea of green under the fading light of dusk. He couldn't shake the image of Yuki's lifeless body from his mind.

Inside, Morrigan and Siobhàn seemed unfazed by the day's events, casually discussing cheese as if they hadn't just fled a violent car chase. Kazuo wondered if this was normal for them. How many deaths had Morrigan seen in her long vampire life? Did it even register anymore?

The loss of Yuki wasn't just personal; it was a massive blow to his investigation. She was his only contact with the skills to access that server. Without her, he was at a dead end. What was he supposed to do now? Where could he go from here?

He closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over him. He was in over his head, caught between vampires and corrupt officials, with no clear path forward.

"I'm sorry about your friend," Morrigan said as she closed the door and stood next to him, leaning on the railing. "I didn't know your friend will die."

"What's the point," Kazuo sighed. "You're a vampire. You've probably seen lots of deaths in your time."

"I'm not gonna lie, I did. But that doesn't mean I can't feel people's emotions."

Part of him wanted to believe her, to find some comfort in the idea that even an immortal being could understand his pain. But another part remained guarded, wondering if this was just manipulation. He'd seen too much deceit lately to trust easily. Still, her statement stirred a small hope in him - maybe she wasn't as cold and detached as he'd assumed. Maybe there was more to her than just being a predator.

"Can you?" Kazuo asked. "Aren't we humans food for you."

"Only if I see you as one."

"What's that suppose to mean? Don't you drink human blood?"

"I do. I have a supply of human blood stack in the basement that I bought from a blood bank. It keeps me filled."

Kazuo glanced at her. "So no drinking blood directly?"

She chuckled. "If you think about it, it's much more smarter to keep humans alive than dead. One human can produce a lot of blood than a dead one, so I rather have them alive."

"But that fedora man is the opposite of you."

"Not really. That type of vampire is an assassin one. He killed your friend to send you a message, to draw you in."

"So he could have left my friend alive if he wanted to?"

"That's correct."

"Who is that anyway? Do you know who he is?"

"My guess is, he's part of the vampire clan Les Ombres Sanglantes or 'The Bloody Shadows' in English."

"The Bloody Shadows? Who are they?"

Morrigan fixed her gaze on the darkening forest. "Les Ombres Sanglantes are one of the oldest vampire clans in Europe. They've been pulling strings in politics and economics for centuries."

"How come I've never heard of them?"

"That's the point. They operate in the shadows, manipulating events from behind the scenes. Their leader, Marquis Lucien Devereux, is a crafty bastard who's been running the show for over two hundred years."

"Christ. Two hundred years? That's a very long time."

"It is, but I'm older."

"What? How old are you?"

"Three hundred, give or take. I lost count, really. I don't count my age anymore. There's no point. I don't even know when my birthday is."

Three hundred years. It was unfathomable. He tried to imagine the weight of all those years, the countless experiences and changes she must have witnessed. How many loved ones had she seen grow old and die? How many wars, inventions, and cultural shifts had she lived through?

The concept of immortality, which had seemed almost glamorous in fiction, now felt overwhelming and isolating. He wondered if that explained her detached demeanor, if centuries of existence had numbed her to the fleeting nature of human life.

Yet, despite this vast gulf of experience between them, she stood beside him now, offering a sort of comfort. It was a paradox Kazuo couldn't quite wrap his head around.

"Jesus," he muttered. "The life experience that you live must have been vast."

"You can say that. I lived through a lot of wars and famine. I went and traveled the world multiple times. I've seen everything there is to see."

"Until you settled in Paris," Kazuo interjected.

She nodded. "It's my hometown. You really cannot replace where you where born to. I stayed here after my travels."

"Where did you travel to?"

"Every country that you can see in the map of the world, even the dangerous ones. I must say, it's quite an experience."

She continued with her travel stories. She spoke of scaling Everest's treacherous peaks, navigating the war-torn streets of Afghanistan, and enduring Siberia's bone-chilling winters. Her stories painted vivid pictures of a world vastly different from the one Kazuo knew, spanning centuries and continents.

As she talked, he found himself captivated by the breadth of her experiences. He tried to imagine what it would be like to witness the rise and fall of empires, to see technologies evolve from primitive tools to the advanced systems of today.

Her tales ranged from humorous misadventures to sobering accounts of human conflict. She described the changing face of cities over decades, the shifting borders of nations, and the cyclical nature of human progress and folly. Through it all, Kazuo sensed a underlying current of weariness, as if the accumulation of so many years had left its mark on her psyche.

As Morrigan's stories wound down, he found himself with a newfound appreciation for the complexity of her existence. The vampire before him was a living repository of human history.

"Amazing," he finally said. "With all these knowledge that you have, you could have shared this with the world."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Humans don't really care about history. They only care about what's in front of them."

"No argument there. Now, people care about trending memes and virtual reality. It's all surface level," Kazuo replied.

Morrigan chuckled. "Precisely. And it's sad, really. The lessons of the past are lost in the noise of the present."

"So, does that mean that you speak any language?"

"Besides French and English? Yes."

"Really? How about my home country, Japan? You speak Japanese?"

Her lips curled into a slight smile. "Mochiron. Nihongo wa watashi no sukina gengo no hitotsu desu."

Kazuo's eyebrows shot up. "Sugoi! Anata no nihongo wa totemo jōzu desu. Doko de benkyō shimashita ka?"

"Edo jidai ni Nihon ni sundeimashita. Sono toki wa omoshirokatta desu," Morrigan replied, her Japanese as fluent as her French.

"Holy shit," Kazuo said, switching back to French. "That's impressive. You really lived in Japan during the Edo period?"

"No, not really. I was just joking. But I read a lot about it in the books. It was a fascinating time. The isolation policy of the Tokugawa shogunate made it a unique cultural experience."

"That's... fuck, that's incredible," Kazuo said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You've literally walked through history."

Morrigan shrugged. "It's just life when you've been around as long as I have, you tend to learn a lot of stuff."

"I can't even imagine," Kazuo murmured. He paused, then asked, "Do you ever get tired of it? Living so long, seeing so much?"

"Sometimes. Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be. You watch the world change, people come and go. When you learn everything there is to learn, it can be... lonely."

The admission hung in the air between them, a moment of vulnerability from the seemingly invincible vampire. Kazuo found himself reassessing his perception of Morrigan. She wasn't just a cold, ancient being, but someone capable of feeling the weight of time and loss.

"I'm sorry," Kazuo said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."

Morrigan waved off his concern. "It is what it is. You learn to find meaning in different ways."

"Like protecting humans with weird blood?"

"Something like that," she chuckled. "Speaking of which, we should head back inside."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea."

As they stepped back inside, they found Siobhàn sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. Her soft snores mingled with the low hum of the TV.

Morrigan gestured towards the kitchen. "I made you some food. You should eat and get some rest."

Kazuo moved to the counter where a plate of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables waited. The aroma made his stomach growl, reminding him how long it had been since he'd eaten.

"What about you?" he asked, picking up the plate. "Are you going to sleep too?"

"Vampires don't sleep. It's one of those myths that got it wrong."

"Seriously? You never sleep?"

"Nope. We can rest, but we don't need sleep like humans do. It's both a blessing and a curse."

Kazuo took a bite of chicken. "So what do you do all night?"

"Read, mostly. Sometimes I work on projects or catch up on the news. There's always something to do."

"Sounds lonely," Kazuo said between bites.

"You get used to it. Besides, it gives me time to keep an eye on things. Someone's got to watch out for trouble while you humans rest."

"I guess that's true," Kazuo said, glancing at Siobhàn. "What about her? She told me that she's not entirely human. What's that all about?"

Morrigan leaned on the counter, crossing her arms. "She's my familiar."

"Familiar? Like a vampire assistant?"

"Kinda, but that's mostly it."

"But she told me she's a witch."

"She is. Siobhàn uses enchantment magic."

"Why didn't she use it during our fights? It could have been useful, you know."

"Casting spells takes time, a lot of time. Guns are faster and more lethal."

"I see. Where did you find her?"

"Ireland. I saved her life almost ten years ago, and I made her my servant forever. She was shunned by her family because of her abilities and was pushed back by her hometown, until I found her."

"That's a sad reality."

"Humans never change. They cling to their fears. It's easier to shun what they don't understand." Morrigan glanced at her familiar. "But Siobhàn has potential. She just needs guidance."

Kazuo nodded, finishing the last bite of chicken. "Thanks for the food. I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"No problem. Get some sleep," Morrigan said. "There's a bedroom upstairs. We've got a lot to figure out tomorrow."