FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO IN THE UNDERWORLD
The darkness of the Underworld was not simply the absence of light — it was a living, pulsating force that breathed between the crimson cracks of the rocks and the oppressive glow of the eternal flames.
At the center of this domain stood a chamber carved from blackened bone, where chains floated in the air like metallic serpents.
And there, seated upon a throne of twisted vertebrae, was Dracula — still incomplete, yet immense, imposing.
Shadows draped over his face like veils, hiding most of his form but revealing the predatory gleam of his scarlet eyes.
Before him, a magic circle pulsed with a purple, blood-tinted power, like a heart on the verge of bursting.
A ritual to forge the perfect lure
Dracula raised a hand. The blood-etched runes ignited.
"If Lucy will not come into my domain… I will create something that will make her come."
His voice echoed like a collapsing cathedral.
He opened an ancient book bound in human skin and marked with archaic vampiric symbols.
The pages flipped on their own until they stopped at an illustration: the portrait of Lucy's mother, extracted from Nyra's memory — for Dracula had invaded her mind countless times.
"The human who shaped Lucy's resolve… so pure, so naive."
He brushed the image with the tip of his fingers.
"Perfect to be repurposed."
Dracula extended his hands over the circle, and strands of sanguine energy rose, swirling around him like serpents.
From the center of the ritual, a form began to materialize.
First bone.
Then muscle.
Then smooth skin.
A face similar… yet not identical.
A colder woman, sharper, with something feral lurking behind the beauty: Drayven.
When the light faded, she hovered there, naked, suspended inches above the ground, breathing for the first time as if learning what it meant to exist.
Her eyes opened — red, deep, empty.
"…where… am I…?"
Her voice was weak, childlike.
She collapsed to her knees.
Dracula descended from his throne, and his shadow swallowed her like an eclipse.
"You are Drayven. Created by me. Forged from human perfection and vampiric power."
He lifted her chin with a single finger.
"You will be the bond, the lure, the comfort, the wound. When Lucy looks at you… she will see her mother reborn. She will hesitate. And in that moment… she will be mine."
Drayven blinked.
Her mind was an empty mosaic — memories implanted like burning needles piercing her skull.
Smiles that never existed.
Tears she never shed.
Affection she never received.
A false humanity crafted to manipulate.
She held her head and groaned.
"It hurts… everything hurts…"
Dracula placed a hand on her forehead. His eyes flared.
The pain vanished.
But the emptiness remained.
"Pain is the birth of usefulness," Dracula proclaimed.
He draped a dark cloak over her body.
"You will learn to fight, to seduce, to persuade, to walk between light and shadow. But above all… you will learn to exist for one single purpose."
He turned and pointed toward a massive gate covered in demonic symbols.
"Come. Your training begins now."
Years passed in the Underworld.
Drayven was taught to wield blades, daggers, scythes.
She learned every stance, every strike, every mental trick.
She mastered:
— Vampiric close-quarters combat
— Emotional manipulation
— Silent movement
— Reading micro-expressions
— Concealing intentions
But throughout her training, there was one thing Dracula could not control:
Her ability to think for herself.
Despite the brainwashing, Drayven held silent moments of confusion… sometimes even doubt.
She stared at the portrait of Lucy's mother — the model of her creation — and wondered:
"Who… was she…? And… who am I?"
Dracula sensed these questions, but ignored them.
To him, Drayven was not a person.
She was a mirror.
A ghost made flesh.
An emotional trigger.
"When Lucy sees you, her heart will falter… and in that breach, I will enter."
That thought made him smile.
On her last day in the Underworld, before being sent to the human world with her identity carefully woven, Dracula spoke:
"Remember, my little shadow… You were made to bring her to me."
He approached, touching her face.
"Nothing else matters."
Drayven swallowed hard.
"I… only exist for that?"
Dracula smiled.
"Exactly."
He wrapped her in wings of darkness.
And she vanished from the Underworld, cast into the human realm…
…to find Lucy.
…to lure her.
…to complete the plan.
But when she reached the real world, something Dracula had not foreseen occurred:
Drayven gained choices.
She gained sensation.
She gained life.
And the rest…
destiny wrote on its own.
PRESENT
The underworld chamber throbbed like a colossal heart buried deep in the earth's bowels. The organic walls, red and alive, tightened and expanded in a grotesque rhythm, exhaling hot steam mixed with an acidic stench of sulfur. Lucy stepped forward with Lycanos in hand, and the sword — on its own — began to levitate, tilting toward a narrow corridor.
Lucy drew a deep breath.
"Alright… lead the way, then."
The blade vibrated and moved ahead as if it had its own will. Lucy followed it step by step until the organic hallway opened, revealing a colossal gate carved from dark silver bars with arcane inscriptions burning in vivid red.
Lycanos illuminated every one of them.
Lucy raised the sword, which reacted, glowing like a crimson flame ready to devour everything. When she touched the gate, a silent shockwave swept the corridor. The bars trembled… then began to open, groaning like a giant stirred from slumber.
Beyond the gate lay a hall as vast as a cathedral. The walls were made of living silver, shifting as though sculpted from liquid light. At the center, towering and imposing, stood a perfect statue of Dracula, forged from pure silver.
Its eyes — even though only metal — seemed to watch Lucy.
And then… the statue spoke.
"At last, I can meet my niece." The voice echoed like contained thunder. "Though it is a shame I must face another of Ulisses' blood. A strange fate, don't you think?"
Lucy gritted her teeth.
"Strange and ironic that it'll end the same way."
A metallic smile twisted the statue's face.
"Irony might favor you this time."
The silver trembled across its face.
"Look behind you."
Lucy spun around instantly — and her blood froze.
High above the gate, suspended by chains of black magic, Drayven hung unconscious, her body dangling like a broken puppet.
"DRAYVEN!" Lucy shouted.
Dracula's voice sliced through the air like a blade.
"Don't even think about it. Blink… and she dies."
Lucy growled in fury, locking eyes with the statue.
She didn't blink.
The statue lifted its arm and, like whips, spears of blood and fire erupted from the ground, striking Lucy with brutal force. She dropped to her knees, gasping, struggling to stay conscious.
The impact jolted Drayven awake.
"L-Lucy!?" she coughed, fighting her restraints.
"LUCY!!"
Dracula raised his hand once more. Dark energy pooled in his metallic palm.
"Foolish. Still insisting on fighting for humans. Humans will always be filth. Nothing more."
Lucy, slowly, lifted her face, irritated.
Dracula continued:
"It seems Ulisses' blood has weakened through the years."
A colossal blast of dark energy shot toward Lucy.
But before it crushed her, Drayven tore through the restraints with a scream and teleported. In a burst of blood, she appeared before Lucy and shoved her aside.
The attack hit Drayven directly.
This time, she fell for real. No movement. No defense.
Lucy ran to her. Touched her face.
Nothing.
Lucy's chest collapsed inward.
Dracula mocked:
"What a waste of time. Failing is one thing… but this behavior? Outrageous. Why bother?"
He raised another attack.
As the dark energy was about to strike, Lucy lifted her face.
Her eyes burned red — so intense that the attack disintegrated mid-air before reaching her.
A wave of crimson energy exploded from Lucy's body. The floor cracked under her feet. Lycanos floated upward, orbiting her like a satellite.
Lucy raised the sword.
"How long are you going to keep talking? Come out already, Dracula!"
The hall rumbled.
The silver statue began to crack… until it burst from within. From the shadows spilling out of its hollow interior, a dark figure emerged, with blood-red eyes glowing like freshly spilled blood.
A long, organic-looking cape unfurled behind him like bat wings.
Dracula — the real one — finally stepped forth.
The air grew heavy. The ground turned into a living swamp of blood, pulsing. The domain of the underworld.
He stared straight into Lucy's red eyes.
"These eyes… deep down, I see the same light in Ulisses'."
Lucy, voice low, asked:
"Why my mother?"
Dracula tilted his head with disdain.
"She who denied her own kind? Ulisses sealed his own brother in hell for a foolish ideal. So I thought… he needed to understand what I felt when I lost my beloved to the cruelty of man."
Lucy clenched her fists, trembling with rage.
Dracula stepped forward, cold:
"If you need a mother so badly, I can create as many as you want. Just as I created part of the monstrous beings. Just as I created… Drayven."
Lucy snapped.
"SHUT UP!!!"
Crimson energy surged around her, colossal. Lycanos shattered the air as if slicing dimensions. Lucy's body began to transform — skin marked with crimson lines, elongated fangs, shadows shaping claws behind her.
Her Monster Awaken — but now in a new form.
Half vampire. Half beast. All fury.
Dracula smiled like a predator.
The two faced each other.
The final battle was about to begin.