Do you ever imagine there's another world running right beside ours? One where honor means nothing, but loyalty is everything. A world that feeds off ours like a parasite—beautiful and hideous all at once.

Now, could you imagine being born into it?

---

It started as a night like any other. One too many drinks at a bar, a girl who seemed just a little too pale, her skin a little too cold. Maybe it was the booze that kept me from noticing. Next thing I knew, she was leading me back to her place.

Now, a nice guy wouldn't share what happened next. But let's be real—I'm not sure I count, and even if I did, who around here cares?

Condom wrappers on the floor. An empty wine glass on the nightstand, tipped over, staining the wood. She laughed, a careless sound that seemed to echo. Her eyes met mine, dark and intense, filled with something I couldn't name.

Desire? Hunger? Excitement? She looked like a predator, savoring her catch. She ran her fingers down my face, the touch sending a chill through me, even in my drunken haze. Her lips found my ear, her breath hot and her voice low.

"I wanna show you something," she whispered, every word curling around me like a promise.

Her mouth moved down my neck, a gentle kiss, then her tongue tracing the line of my jaw. My head started to spin, eyes growing heavy, my body melting into the bed. The beer was dragging me under, but the sharp pain in my throat snapped me awake.

Teeth. Her teeth.

I gasped, too stunned to scream at first. My arms pushed at her, but they felt like they were made of lead. I managed one strangled cry, a desperate plea cut short, before silence took me.

....

It was dark. Not the usual kind of darkness, either, but something deeper, something so complete it felt like the entire universe had been snuffed out, like someone had put out the sun and left me floating in a cold, empty void. I couldn't see, couldn't feel anything around me, just the sensation of floating. And then—

A voice. Crystal clear, like it was speaking straight into my mind.

It was a woman's voice, soft and beautiful. "Why don't we add this? Is it good?" she asked, like she was making some careful decision. But I couldn't tell who she was talking to—I couldn't see anyone.

I tried to move, to open my mouth and ask what was happening, but my body wouldn't respond. I felt frozen, like a statue, unable to do anything but listen. And then, as if the darkness itself had a chill, an icy feeling crept along my spine.

Then another voice—a man's—firm and clear. "Hmm, another system? Isn't that a bit overpowered? You've already added so many systems."

The woman replied, and I could almost hear her pouting, "But it's useful! People love knowing their stats—it's really in demand. Can't we just add it this once? I promise, next time we can try something new! Please?"

A pause, and then the man sighed. "Fine. But just this once."

The woman's voice turned bright, excited. "Thank you! Oh, and why don't we add this? It looks cool."

"It's too bright," he replied, sounding thoughtful. "Let's try something darker."

"Oh! I know, I know!" she said, sounding pleased with herself. "Why don't we make him a vampire? That'd be good!"

A vampire? Who? Me?! What's going on here? Panic surged in my mind. Am I some experiment? Did I get captured by some insane organization?

The man's voice cut through my thoughts. "A vampire? Isn't that a bit overpowered, too? But… fine, we can try it. But it'll need balance." He paused, as if considering. "Ah, yes. Let's add this feature, to keep things even."

"Oh, yes!" the woman said, sounding even more thrilled. "But… no blood-sucking humans, okay? That's too cliché. Everyone does that. Let's change the species or something. I don't want him feeding on humans; it feels… wrong."

Blood-sucking? Humans? I screamed inside my mind, but my voice stayed trapped, silent. My mouth wouldn't open, my limbs were locked in place. Only my consciousness was active, alert, and helpless. Please, someone, help me! I don't know what's happening!

"Alright," the man agreed, "if you dislike it that much, we can bring in something from another world. He can feed on them instead of humans. That way, he doesn't have to drink human blood."

"Oh, perfect!" she replied happily. "Now, let's decide the era. I always get so excited about this part."

The man's voice, irritated, broke through the dark. "Era? I don't want to mess with that. Choosing between medieval, modern, or some other old-time setting is just too much work. Then we'd have to think about how people talk, act, dress… it's too much. I'm not doing it."

The woman's voice softened, calm and soothing. "Alright, we won't bother with an era. Tell me, then, what would you like to do?"

"Well," he replied, voice perking up, "we could go with a fantasy kingdom setup. And before you say it's overused, hear me out. We wouldn't have to invent a whole new setting—we can use ready-made pieces. Multiple kingdoms, realms, maybe even empires. Plus, ranks like kings, princes, dukes, and noble houses are already laid out for us. We can just pick and choose as we like," he finished, sounding pleased with his idea.

She hesitated, but her voice softened in agreement. "I... suppose that could work. But I don't want him to be privileged from the start—or a beggar either. Let's make him start somewhere random, like a forest, away from any city or kingdom. That way, he can grow strong out there, and by the time he enters any kingdom, he'll be unstoppable. Just imagining it… it's so perfect!" she said, a hint of excitement in her tone.

"Agreed," the man replied. "He'll be strong, but let's give him access to all types of magic—dark magic, elemental magic, you name it. That way, we have a lot of freedom to add whatever we want later if we get stuck. What do you think?"

"Yes, I love it. And I'm thinking, let's start him as a child—a small age, something we can build up as he grows into a teenager. Let's make it a journey."

"Hmm, good point," he said thoughtfully. "That opens up many options for us too. We could even add an academy where he learns the ways of humans and their society… there are endless possibilities."

"Oh, yes!" she replied, her voice thrilled. "And let's give him a dramatic beginning, something dark and tense. A revenge plot, maybe? I love that—it gives him a reason to fight, a purpose, so he's not just drifting through life, aimlessly making it all boring and uneventful."

"Got it," the man said, his tone firm with decision. "I'll handle that. Let's go with these ideas and build as we go, shall we?"

"Yes!" she agreed, full of excitement. "Let's do it."

As their voices faded, my world slipped back into silence. Nothing but the cold darkness remained, pressing in around me. I lay there, waiting, frozen and helpless, wondering when—or if—my eyes would finally open.

Hours passed. In the darkness, I waited, somehow alive but not breathing, feeling no heartbeat, no blink, no ordinary pulse of life. And yet—I felt alive. The strange realization dawned slowly as I lifted my hand, fingers brushing along my throat and cheeks. The sensation was different; my touch was sharper, my senses strangely heightened. Power seemed to pulse through my body, of many kinds, each one more mysterious than the last.

Curious, I tried to sit up. But my body felt… small. I looked around, only to find everything towering above me, as if the whole world had somehow grown massive. I tried to lift my hands but froze when I caught sight of them. Wait… whose hands are these? They were so tiny, pudgy even, like the hands of a baby.

Wait… did I turn into a child?

My mind reeled. Is this… what those people were talking about? Those voices… they actually changed me? But how is that even possible?

My head spun, panic welling up as I struggled to make sense of it all. My mind felt too big for this tiny body, like a wave crashing against a fragile shore. My emotions surged, raw and overwhelming, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. No, no—I don't want to cry. I'm not a baby!

But the emotions bubbled over, and I started to cry, my tiny body wracked with sobs I couldn't control. Whether it was because of these new baby hormones or just pure frustration, I didn't know.

Suddenly, soft footsteps came closer, and I heard a woman's gentle voice. She picked me up, holding me with such warmth and gentleness that my tears stopped almost immediately. Her face was stunningly beautiful, more so than anyone I had ever seen—elegant features, eyes that held a strange kindness, and a gentle smile that seemed to melt away my fear.

Who is she? I thought, gazing up at her in awe. I've never seen anyone like her before… or rather, I don't remember seeing anyone like her in either life.

She cradled me close, humming softly as she began to sing a lullaby, her voice calming and tender.

"Hush, little baby, don't you cry… everything's going to be alright…"

Her voice was a balm, soothing every fear, and I relaxed into her arms. She rocked me gently, patting my back, the soft rhythm lulling me into a daze. My eyes began to droop, and she placed me back in a cradle with gentle care. I watched her through half-closed eyes as she moved to a chair across the room and sat down, looking so serene, her gaze still fixed on me. Just as my eyes were about to close completely, a loud crash echoed through the room.

My eyes flew open, and I saw three men burst through the door. My heart pounded as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

The first man, tall and imposing, gripped a wooden stake, his gaze cold and unfeeling. He didn't hesitate—he threw the stake in a wide, deadly arc, aimed directly at the woman sitting in the chair. The impact was quick, brutal, and she slumped over, her eyes still on me, her body going still.

Panic gripped me as I looked from her to the men, trying to scream, to cry out for help, but I was frozen in shock, my tiny voice too weak. I couldn't do anything, couldn't even let out a sound. The second man walked over to me, his expression dark, as he lifted me up by my leg like I was some object, dangling me in the air. I was so terrified, so paralyzed by fear, that not a single squeak escaped my lips.

"This child…" the man said, studying me with cold, clinical eyes. "Its heart isn't beating. What should we do?"

Another man, standing tall by the door, spoke with authority. "Take him. Let the lords decide what to do with him. And bring the woman—tonight, we deal with her, too."

As they took me, my gaze shifted back to her, my supposed mother, lying still and lifeless in the chair. My last sight before they carried me away was the third man, a towering brute with red eyes, blocking the door, his gaze as cold and unmoving as stone.

---

I don't know how much time passed. When I finally came to, I was lying on a hard wooden stage, still unable to move. My wrists were bound, and my body felt strangely lifeless, as though I were nothing more than a doll. A crowd was gathered before me, their faces hidden in shadow, their expressions tense and curious. I lay on the stage, unmoving, my senses sharp but my body paralyzed.

In front of me, a finely dressed man paced back and forth on the stage, speaking as though he were in a grand play. He moved with exaggerated gestures, his every step practiced and precise. His voice was smooth and refined as he addressed the crowd.

"Good evening," he began, his tone dripping with false politeness. "I apologize for disrupting your affairs, dear guests, but tonight, I bring a matter of grave concern."

He went on, his speech filled with words about "our oaths" and the "laws that bind us." I couldn't focus on what he was saying—my gaze drifted to the side of the stage where the woman who'd held me was seated, her forehead stained with blood, her gaze distant but strangely calm, focused on me with an intensity that was both haunting and comforting.

My hands strained against the bonds, my instincts screaming at me to reach for her, to somehow bring her back, but I was helpless. Just a child, barely able to move, bound and utterly powerless.

The man's voice droned on, his tone self-important. "This breach of our laws… cannot go unpunished. The sentence, of course… is death."

He steepled his hands, pretending to look pained. "Know that I am no more the judge than I am a humble servant of our lords, bound to uphold the laws as they are written." He turned toward the woman, his face a mask of false regret.

"Forgive me," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. He took a step back, and then, from the shadows beside her, the brute who had stood guard at the door earlier stepped forward. He held a massive sword, a monstrous slab of steel engraved with runes that seemed to pulse with a dark energy. I watched in horror, unable to look away as he raised the blade high above his head.

My chest tightened, an unbearable ache blooming as if my heart were being ripped apart. No, no… why does this hurt so much? I wanted to scream, to cry, to somehow stop what was coming, but my body refused to respond. All I could do was watch, helpless, as the blade came down in a swift, merciless arc.

In a single stroke, it was over. Her body crumpled, then crumbled to ash, a faint trace of smoke rising as if she had never been there at all. And yet, even in those last moments, she hadn't taken her eyes off me. It hit me like a storm crashing down—she was my mother. She had looked at me with love, even in her final moments, her heart full, her gaze steady, as if she wanted nothing more than to see me one last time.

The urge to scream tore at my chest, but I held it back. No crying. Not here. Not in front of them.

The man on stage turned back to the crowd, raising an eyebrow as if nothing at all had happened. "And now, we come to the matter of the child," he said, his tone casual, like he was discussing some trivial matter.

A murmur went through the crowd, and then someone shouted, "This is bullshit!"

A man stood up, his fists clenched in anger. He glared at the man on stage, his expression furious. People around him exchanged uneasy looks, not sure what to make of the outburst. Other voices joined his, whispers of doubt and discontent spreading through the crowd.

The man on stage looked down at him, his eyes narrowing slightly in irritation. "If Mr. Patrick would allow me to finish… This child had no control over his birth. It would be unseemly—monstrous, even—for us to burn a child that is dead already. And we are not monsters," he added with a smirk, as though he were doing the world a grand favor.

I sagged in relief, though the pain of losing my mother still lingered like an open wound. At least I wouldn't be harmed, not today.

"Take him to the far western forest," the man commanded, gesturing toward the men who had dragged me here. "Bury him there, far from our lands. Let him be forgotten."

Patrick, the man who had shouted, looked furious, his shoulders hunched and fists clenched. He cast one last glare at the stage before storming out of the room, shoving past the crowd as he left. Gradually, the others began to follow, murmuring among themselves. The last to leave was a man with a feral look, his long hair and beard giving him an air of menace. He glanced down at me, his gaze unreadable, before turning away.

As the guards lifted me, carrying me away, I felt the weight of everything settle on my shoulders. My mother was gone, her life stolen before I even knew her. I was alone, but a fierce thought echoed through my mind, a promise as sharp as a blade:

One day, I'll make them all pay.

It was dark and gloomy.

The forest stretched around me like a nightmare, shadows twisting between trees too thick and tall, almost blocking out the sky. Insects buzzed, creatures rustled in the underbrush, and howls echoed through the night air. Where were they taking me?

The hulking man holding me trudged forward, his muscles tense and bare under the moonlight, while another man followed behind him, clutching a torch that barely cut through the darkness. They looked uneasy, their eyes darting around as they ventured deeper into the woods.

The towering man who carried me glanced back, his voice a low, rough whisper. "Hey, why don't we just leave him here?"

The other man hesitated. "But weren't we ordered to take him far west?"

The big one grunted, shaking his head. "It'll be fine. He's already dead. And if we leave him here, some wild beast will eat him. No one's gonna find out."

As if on cue, a wolf's howl broke the silence, echoing somewhere close by. The man carrying me jerked, panic flaring in his eyes. He dropped me roughly onto the ground, his legs shaking as he backed away. "Let's go. No one's gonna find him, anyway."

And just like that, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the shadows, leaving me alone.

The impact stung, pain spreading across my back. You big apes, couldn't you have put me down gently?

"Big bastards," I mumbled internally.

Another howl echoed, this one closer than the last. I felt a chill down my spine and… oh no. I literally felt myself soil the rags they had wrapped me in. This child body couldn't hold up to the fear—I had actually wet myself. Great, I thought, my last shreds of dignity slipping away into the damp forest floor. At least there's no one here to see.

Then, my stomach growled. Hunger gnawed inside me, the ache sharp and relentless. I was starving, every small movement sending jolts of pain through me. With all the strength I could muster, I tried to roll over onto my hands and knees, crawling as best I could, though every sensation only reminded me how pitiful I was in this tiny, helpless body. And that smell... One day, I swear I'll get a bath.

Suddenly, a voice—calm and mechanical—spoke into the quiet. "Your system is loading. Please wait."

I froze, staring into the darkness, when a glowing window suddenly appeared in front of me, suspended in the air.

What… the actual…? If I could speak, I'd have let out every curse word I'd ever known. But trapped in this body, I could only stare.

The voice continued, unbothered by my shock. "System has loaded successfully."

Another window popped up in front of me, words scrolling across its glowing surface.

> As the user is currently unable to speak\, the system can be accessed by simply thinking the word 'status' to open the status window.

Okay, I thought, sighing in resignation. After today, nothing is going to surprise me anymore.

I focused, thinking status, and the window shimmered, filling in with lines of text like a character sheet in a game.

---

Status Window

Name: Silas Thorne

Species: Vampire Spawn

Level: 1

Skills:

Dark Sense (passive): Allows heightened perception in darkness.

Drain Touch (active): Absorbs a small amount of life energy from physical contact.

Stats:

Strength: 5

Agility: 8

Endurance: 4

Intelligence: 12

Magic: 10

Charisma: 6

---

The window glowed, and I stared at it, my mind racing. Silas Thorne? The name settled oddly in my head, feeling both familiar and new. I wasn't just human anymore—whatever those voices had done, they'd remade me into something different, something more.

But as much as the thrill of it all tingled through me, reality crashed back in. I was alone in a dark forest, hungry, and too small to fend off anything that might come looking for me. My mind churned as I looked over the stats, focusing on each one, trying to understand my new strengths, my new limits.

Well, Silas Thorne… looks like your survival starts now.

The system window popped up right in front of me, breaking my serious, intense moment. Really? Can't you read the room for once? Let me look a little dashing at least, I thought with an eye roll.

The system, unfazed and as blank as ever, displayed another message in crisp, glowing letters:

> First Mission: A source of water and food has been detected nearby\, approximately 100 meters to the north. Quench your thirst and hunger to survive the night.

Food? Water? My eyes widened. Did it really say food? And to the north? Here we go!

I dropped down onto my hands and knees, determined, and started crawling forward. Every muscle felt like it was being torn apart, my arms and legs screaming with each movement. The hunger was unbearable, clawing at my insides, making my stomach growl painfully. But I grit my teeth and focused.

"One step at a time," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to push forward. "Left, right… left, right…"

I tried to keep a rhythm. "Heave… ho…" My arms were trembling, barely able to support me as I crawled. But just when I thought I was making progress, my hands slipped, and I thudded face-first into the ground.

Pain throbbed through my body. This is it. I'm going to die again, this time starving to death in the middle of nowhere.

But I couldn't just give up. "No," I muttered, clenching my fists. "I'm gonna eat something first, then I can think about dying."

I pushed myself up again, teeth gritted. "Left… right… left…" My mind chanted the rhythm, and I forced myself to keep going. I could feel myself weakening, but I didn't stop. One step, then another, then another…

And then—everything went dark.

---

I was floating in that strange, endless void again, no light, no sound, just the cold emptiness surrounding me. What happened? I thought. I was so close!

Then I heard her voice, soft and crystal clear, echoing in the darkness. That same woman's voice from before.

"He died..."

The woman's voice cut through the darkness, sounding annoyed, almost like she was throwing a tantrum. "He died! Is this how you said you'd handle it?" she snapped, her words filled with frustration. "Look at him—he died so pathetically, just trying to find water! Poor soul didn't even get the chance to wash himself…"

What?! No way... am I really dead again? I thought, the shock hitting me hard. But I was going to be famous! Powerful! I was supposed to fight those who wronged me, make them pay. The legend of Silas Thorne—an epic rise to power! My mind filled with visions of what could have been.

I wanted to scream, to shout in protest, but the darkness held me silent. Wasn't I supposed to be the chosen one? Didn't I have a system?

And yet… here I was, dead again, left to rot in some dark forest.

In the darkness, their voices echoed again, as if I was floating in some strange void between life and death.

The man's voice sounded defensive, almost sulking. "How was I supposed to know he'd die like that? And you're the one who made him a boy. If he were older, he would've handled that mission no problem."

The woman's response was furious, practically spitting her words. "Oh, so it's my fault, is it? That's what you're saying, huh? Everything's my fault?"

I couldn't see him, but I could practically feel the man panicking, realizing he'd stepped into dangerous territory. I had no idea what he looked like, but something told me his face was full of dread. It's probably a universal rule, no matter where you are: never, ever let a woman think you're saying it's her fault.

"N-No, no, don't cry!" he stammered. "It's not your fault! Really—it's all my mistake. I forgot to give him some buffs, yeah. Totally my fault, you're right. Don't worry, I'll fix it…"

Her voice softened slightly, though she was still sniffing. "Really…? I told you it was your fault."

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," he said, his voice calm, like he was soothing a storm. "So… what should we do?"