Chapter 15: Chapter 15 - New Realities
The new Shadowthorn Syndicate base was a stark contrast to the ruined battlefield they had fled. Hidden deep within a craggy mountain range, the facility was a labyrinth of fortified chambers and underground corridors. The air buzzed with tension as the remaining Syndicate leaders gathered in a dimly lit war room, the heavy scent of burning torches filling the air.
Lady Arlin sat at the head of the table, her silver hair disheveled and her arm tightly bandaged. Her piercing blue eyes darted between the maps and reports spread before her. Velnar stood nearby, his shadowy presence as commanding as ever, his hands clasped behind his back.
"The Inquisition was better prepared than anticipated," Arlin began, her voice edged with frustration. "They took more from us than we expected. The operation was a failure."
Velnar's eyes narrowed. "It was a calculated risk," he replied coolly. "We lost assets, yes. But they expended considerable resources and gained little. E-3183 remains in our hands."
"For now," Rellen interjected, his thin frame hunched over a stack of reports. "But the Inquisition won't stop. And the losses we sustained… we can't afford another engagement like this."
Arlin's fist slammed against the table, making the reports jump. "Then what do you suggest? We're not equipped to fight a war on two fronts."
Velnar's voice remained calm but firm. "We'll focus on consolidation. Strengthen our defenses here and continue the experiments on E-3183. He is the key to turning this in our favor."
Rellen hesitated but nodded. "Very well. I'll begin preparations for the next phase immediately."
Arlin's gaze lingered on Velnar, her expression unreadable. "Let's hope you're right. Otherwise, we've already lost."
The door has been slammed. Attention was immediately drawn to it. In the hurry, the person responsible for the subject's transfer entered and fell to his knees. "L-Lord Velnor, w-w-we have lost subject E-3183."
When the sentence was implied in all the gathered minds. They shouted in unison. "What the hell are you talking about?!"
When Velnor had calmed down, he asked in a calm but cold tone. "Now, Frank, can you explain what happened?" And then a man known as Frank replied that when they checked the list of objects they had transferred, they understood that E-3183 had disappeared.
List of objects it`s array where each object has own priority from 0-10 where 0 it`s garbage and 10 it`s the paramount. For example E-3101 (Lynara) and C-1452 (Tarran) had 5 and as for E-3183 (Max) he had 10.
After this news, the whole room fell into a daze and became silent again. Nothing could be heard but the swaying of the air from breathing.
------------------------------------------------
In the polished halls of a grand council chamber, Commander Alaric stood at attention. His armor was polished but bore the faint scars of the recent battle. Before him sat a semicircle of robed figures, their faces partially obscured by shadow. The High Council, the governing body overseeing the Vanguard Inquisition, exuded authority with every word and gesture.
The central figure, a woman with an imposing presence and sharp features, spoke first. "Commander Alaric, report on the operation against the Shadowthorn Syndicate."
Alaric inclined his head. "The Syndicate's convoy was intercepted as planned. Their forces were routed, and many of their assets destroyed. However, their leadership escaped, along with their primary subjects and researchers"
"Unacceptable," a male councilor to her right interjected. "The Syndicate has operated in defiance of the High Council for too long. This was our chance to dismantle them entirely, and you failed."
Alaric's jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. "With respect, the Syndicate's forces were more formidable than our intelligence suggested. My soldiers fought bravely, but we sustained significant casualties. Pursuing their retreat would have risked further losses with minimal chance of success."
"Commander," the central figure said, her tone sharp but measured, "you're to focus on tracking their movements. The Syndicate's operations must be brought to an end, and that object with codenamed E-3183—whatever they've created—cannot remain in their hands. You should, no wait, you must destroy it."
"Understood," Alaric replied. "We will redouble our efforts."
The council dismissed him with a wave, their whispered discussions resuming as Alaric turned on his heel and exited the chamber. The weight of their expectations settled heavily on his shoulders, but he pushed it aside. 'The Syndicate will fall,' he thought. 'One way or another.'
------------------------------------------------
In the dense forest, Max trudged forward, his legs aching and his head spinning with exhaustion. The sunlight filtered through the trees, its warm glow dappling the forest floor. He paused, leaning against a tree to catch his breath, and felt the rays of the sun on his face.
For a moment, he froze. The warmth should have burned him. Shouldn't it? The words echoed in his mind: 'Vampires fear the sun. It's lethal to them.' Yet here he was, standing in broad daylight, unscathed.
He looked down at his hands, turning them over as if expecting them to blister. Nothing happened. His crimson eyes scanned the forest floor, then the sky.
"Was it all just stories?" he murmured aloud. "Or am I… different?"
The thought gnawed at him as he continued walking. 'What am I?' The experiments, the months of torment, the endless tests—was this another piece of whatever they had done to him? The questions swirled in his mind, but there were no answers. Not yet.
The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. As darkness crept in, the forest grew colder, its once-vivid colors fading into shades of gray. Max's steps slowed, and he considered finding a place to rest. His body screamed for reprieve, his every muscle aching from the day's journey.
But as the first stars appeared in the night sky, an unfamiliar sensation crept over him. It started as a faint dryness in his throat, but it quickly grew, spreading like fire. Max's hand shot to his neck, his fingers pressing against his skin as if to stop the growing need.
The burning sensation intensified, consuming him from the inside. His breathing grew shallow, his vision blurring as the primal urge took hold. He staggered to a nearby tree, clutching it for support as his mind raced.
"What… is this?" he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.
The forest was silent, offering no answers. Max sank to his knees, the dry ache in his throat turning into an unbearable hunger. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. But deep down at the primiordial level, he already knew.
The hunger was a reminder. A cruel truth he could no longer ignore. He was a vampire, and his body demanded what it had been denied.
And he didn't know how much longer he could resist.