Terra Aeterna: The Rise of Humanity's War Machine

I'm currently writing the continuation of this story in a new book. If you've enjoyed the storyline I've built in Terra Aeterna, I invite you to read the sequel—Season 2. I hope each chapter I write will continue to improve, as I'm still learning and growing as a novelist, especially in writing in English.

Season 2 is a direct continuation of the journey. Due to Wattpad's chapter limit, I've created a separate book to carry on the story. If you haven't read the first part yet, please visit my profile and start with Season 1 to experience how it all began.

Now, a new chapter of war begins.

-----

In the Government's Secret Prison

Michael was strapped to a cold metal chair, his body limp, battered, and drenched in blood. Researchers in sterile white lab coats surrounded him, slicing flesh from his arms and extracting his blood without the slightest trace of mercy. Every scream he let out was reduced to nothing more than a data point in their clinical reports.

On the other side of the room, a vampire suffered a similar fate. But unlike Michael, the vampire's blood triggered something strange—one of the dying test subjects, moments from death, suddenly came back to life after being injected with the vampire's blood. But he was no longer the same. His teeth had elongated. His irises had darkened. He had become a vampire.

Behind a glass observation wall, someone watched the entire scene unfold. The figure showed no sympathy. A faint smile curled on his lips as he witnessed the transformation complete flawlessly.

Soldier 02:

"Speaker, the vampire has been successfully recruited. According to intelligence reports, their lair is located in an old noble estate on the outskirts of the city. They call it 'the old house.' However, this werewolf—Michael—he's… different. There's a strange mutation in his blood. The researchers are still analyzing it," one of the soldiers in a white uniform reported respectfully.

The Speaker:

"Then continue the research. This vampire's level is still too low. Send a recon team to that location, and capture their elder," he said flatly, though his tone carried a clear weight of authority. "I want their blood."

Soldier 02:

"Yes, Speaker."

---

Aboard a Massive Ship in the Middle of the Ocean

In the quiet command room filled with an air of absolute authority, Alexander Corvinus stood facing the vast open sea. The ocean breeze swept gently across the deck, but his mind was anything but calm.

The news had reached him—one of the vampires had been captured by the government. Too late. Every precaution he'd taken until now had failed. The existence of the vampires had finally been exposed.

It wasn't time yet. That's what disturbed him the most. He wasn't fully prepared for the consequences.

In a calm yet commanding voice, he summoned his subordinates.

Alexander Corvinus:

"Cleaners."

Head of the Cleaners:

"Yes, Lord Alexander Corvinus."

Alexander Corvinus:

"Send someone to the old house. Deliver a message: the government has discovered their existence and is likely preparing to act. Proceed with extreme caution. No one must suspect our movements."

Head of the Cleaners:

"Understood, sir." With a respectful nod, the subordinate turned and swiftly left the room to carry out the order.

Alexander turned back toward the sea, his gaze lingering. There was doubt in his eyes. Not fear—he wasn't afraid—but he knew… a storm was coming. And he could only hope the vampire coven was wise enough to take this warning seriously.

------

The Vampire's Old Manor

Long ago, this place was the shadowed fortress of Viktor—the supreme overlord and the most feared among the creatures of the night. Massive stone pillars held up the high vaulted ceilings, adorned with carvings from the age of darkness. Now, this place belonged to Kraven, who claimed to be the heir to Viktor's throne—though many knew he stood only on the crumbling remnants of Viktor's glory.

That night, the manor glowed dimly under the flicker of candlelight and torch sconces. In the grand hall, a lavish banquet was underway. Vampires arrived dressed in elegant Victorian gowns and tailored coats, regal and dignified, though the crimson gleam in their eyes betrayed their nature. Crystal goblets were filled with "red wine," but in the world of the nightwalkers, everyone knew—not all that's red comes from grapes.

Soft laughter and refined conversation filled the air, crafting an atmosphere that almost made them forget: the world outside was changing. Humanity no longer trembled in fear. They were hunting now.

CRAAACKK!

A sharp crack shattered the aristocratic stillness. A single arrow whistled through a gothic windowpane, shattering the glass into shards that rained onto the stone floor, catching the candlelight like flashes from hell.

Tied to the shaft was a scroll of parchment, swaying slowly as if death itself had delivered it.

Seconds later—BANG! A gunshot echoed from afar. Another window exploded in a shower of glass. Every vampire guest froze, silent as statues whose souls had just been claimed.

A guard clad in black slipped into the hall, his expression grim. He marched straight to Kraven and handed him a sealed envelope, wrapped in dark cloth like a message from the underworld.

Kraven opened the letter. His usually calm and arrogant eyes widened. His fingers—once steady and sure—now trembled slightly as he held the paper.

The message was clear:

A vampire had been captured.

The authorities knew of their existence.

And they were coming.

Kraven's thoughts raced: Who told them? An old enemy... or is there a traitor among us?

His face grew cold. The pride vanished from his expression, replaced by something sharper—caution... and fury.

Kraven spoke aloud:

"The feast is over. Everyone—prepare for battle. The enemy is approaching."

No protests. No questions. Every vampire present understood: if the message was true, they stood on the brink of annihilation. If it was false, they'd only waste energy. But to ignore it? That would be fatal.

Kraven continued:

"Arm yourselves. Gather our forces. Strengthen the defenses. Tonight... we hunt the hunters."

Like echoes from a grim past, the servants moved swiftly, opening hidden armories behind the walls. Ancient chests creaked open, revealing silver swords, cursed bullets, and guns modified to fit hands born of shadow.

The vampires shed their gowns, donning lightweight black combat gear. Their eyes glowed crimson. Fangs emerged.

The clash of metal echoed through the manor's corridors. The scent of blood lingered in the air.

One by one, the night-born gathered. Under Kraven's command, hundreds—perhaps thousands—of vampires took position throughout the vast estate.

Tonight, Viktor's old manor was no longer a place of feasting.

Tonight, it was a fortress of defiance.

-----

Dominion Battlecruiser - Command Deck

Kenthelion, Selene, and a select group of key personnel stepped into the Dominion battlecruiser's central command deck. A massive tactical display dominated the front wall, showing a live feed of an old, weathered mansion sitting quietly on the outskirts of the city—now the center of their strategic focus.

The room buzzed with activity. Operators and officers moved efficiently between stations, issuing reports and adjusting controls. Some glanced briefly in Kenthelion's direction to offer a respectful salute to His Majesty the Emperor, then promptly returned to their duties.

The camera feed zoomed in, revealing vampires stationed around the mansion, preparing for battle. From their tight formations and swift response times, it was obvious—Alexander Corvinus had warned them. Still, Kraven's tactical command, though imperfect, was holding its own in setting up their defenses.

Selene narrowed her eyes at the screen, her expression sharp but composed.

Selene:

"Do you think they can hold off the government forces?" she asked, her gaze locked on the display.

Kenthelion:

"This time, they should be fine. The government troops aren't equipped with silver nitrate rounds, let alone ultraviolet ammunition. Fighting vampires without specialized weapons is nearly impossible. Unless they deploy heavy weapons, their losses will be... substantial."

His voice was calm, analytical—carefully weighing every variable.

Selene:

"They won't use heavy weapons. That mansion's too close to the city. This entire operation is off the record. Anything too loud or flashy will blow their cover."

She exhaled quietly before continuing,

"At best, they can claim they're after terrorists or armed criminals. But no one's buying a tank rolling into the suburbs."

Amalia:

"I agree," Amalia chimed in, picking up from Kenthelion's reasoning. "They won't risk exposure. It's far too dangerous."

Selene gave a slow, understanding nod. She knew the risks. But her thoughts drifted—if the government forces suffered major losses here, there was no telling how far they'd go next time.

Suddenly, Amalia pointed at the display.

Amalia:

"Look. The government troops have arrived."

One by one, military vehicles emerged in tactical formation, moving in from all directions to surround the old manor. Nearly two thousand armed soldiers disembarked from transport trucks and began taking positions around the perimeter.

A high-ranking officer—identifiable by the stripes on his shoulder and the radio clipped to his collar—issued a sharp order to storm the house and capture the target.

Thud… thud… thud…

Bootsteps echoed in rhythm across the damp ground and gravel-covered yard. The troops advanced in tight formation, weapons raised, eyes alert.

But just as they were closing in, only steps away from the manor's threshold, a grenade flew out from the shadows of a cracked window.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions shattered the night. Fire and debris burst into the air.

The commanding officer didn't even have time to bark out a warning to hit the ground. His body was hurled backward, blood sprayed mid-air, and his life ended in an instant.

Panic rippled through the front line. Some soldiers dove for cover—but it was too late. Vampires hidden just outside the house moved with terrifying speed, launching a coordinated assault with grenades and custom firearms.

Before any soldier could even reach the front steps, dozens had already fallen in the chaos of explosions and savage ambushes from the creatures of the night.

Tak-tak-tak-tak!

Gunfire tore through the tense, rain-soaked night. The remaining government troops returned fire, aiming at the dilapidated house where the vampires were holed up.

Bullets struck their targets—but the effect? Almost nonexistent.

The vampires kept advancing. Blood oozed from bullet wounds, but they didn't fall. Their eyes glowed crimson, fury burning behind the red haze. Bullets only slowed them down. They didn't stop them.

Bratatatatat!

The firefight intensified. Muzzle flashes lit up the ruins of the garden and crumbling walls. Some of the vampires burst from their cover—zigzagging at superhuman speeds, dodging bullets with ease, wielding curved blades that gleamed under the moonlight.

They flanked the soldiers. A few rounds pierced their bodies—but none were enough to bring them down.

The soldiers caught at close range never stood a chance. Throats were slit. Chests were pierced. Blood sprayed in arcs across the darkened field.

One officer activated his comms channel:

Soldier (shouting):

"—requesting reinforcements! We need backup now! We're surrounded—those things aren't human! They—Argh!"

His voice was cut off by the sound of gunfire and a scream of agony. On the ground, the situation was spiraling out of control.

The red-eyed vampires were losing all restraint. They moved like beasts freed from a cage. According to ancient vampire law, they were forbidden from feeding on living humans. But now, that law meant nothing.

Wounded soldiers were dragged into the shadows, their screams echoing through the night. The vampires bit, ripped, devoured—drinking blood with an insatiable hunger.

Soldier (desperate):

"There's no way out! We're trapped! They're… they're slaughtering us!"

The formation crumbled. Troops broke and ran for cover, only to be snatched into the darkness by relentless night hunters.

Within thirty minutes, the entire two-thousand-strong unit was annihilated—wiped out to the last man.

Without ultraviolet weapons, without silver bullets, and without heavy artillery support, they were nothing more than sheep in a den of wolves.

---

Inside the Dominion Battlecruiser's command center, the tension in the control room was palpable, even in complete silence. A massive holographic screen displayed the aftermath of the recent massacre—smoke still rising from the old mansion, blood soaking the courtyard. Thermal cameras confirmed it: no human life signs remained.

Selene stood still, her jaw clenched tight. Amalia's fists were balled at her sides, her eyes flashing with barely contained emotion.

Kenthelion stared at the screen for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice low, calm—but weighted.

Kenthelion

"They acted recklessly. This time, they were unprepared. But next time... they won't make the same mistake."

His gaze lingered on the wreckage of the battlefield. The government's strike force had been completely annihilated by the vampires.

Amalia

"If Kraven weren't such a fool, he would've evacuated the mansion from the start. Staying there was a death sentence."

She observed the battle's trajectory from a distance, analyzing it with a sharp, tactical mind.

Selene

"Marcus is still asleep inside that mansion. Will Kraven try to wake him?"

There was deep concern in her voice. Marcus was not someone to take lightly.

Amalia

"No. Kraven wants control of the vampire covens. Waking Marcus means surrendering that power. He'd rather flee with the others—or die in that mansion. But if I know him, he'll choose to flee. He can build a new base anytime he wants."

Her eyes shifted toward Selene as she calmly laid out her reasoning.

Kenthelion

"Forget Kraven. Alexander Corvinus will warn them. He won't let the vampires and lycans be wiped out. That's what he's always done—preserve the balance, no matter the cost."

There was a steely edge to Kenthelion's voice. Of all people, he understood Alexander's thinking best.

Perhaps it was a form of atonement… a way to make peace with the legacy of his two sons. Even though both had tried to kill him, Alexander never sought revenge. Marcus and William were the creators of the two dominant races of the dark world. Alexander would never erase his own bloodline.

Selene

"So... we're just going to stand by and watch?"

Her eyes narrowed, betraying frustration she couldn't hide.

Kenthelion

"Of course not. You've forgotten the agreement I made with Alexander? It's not our time yet. Our position isn't optimal. And the government... hasn't even deployed its full strength."

He placed a hand gently on Selene's shoulder, as if to calm the fire rising within her.

Amalia

"You… you're planning to go to war with this country?"

She looked at Kenthelion in disbelief. For a moment, silence fell over the command center.

And then it all clicked.

It wasn't that Kenthelion had done nothing—he had been waiting. Waiting for the right moment. With his technology and spacefaring fleet under his command, it was clear he'd been preparing for this for a long time.

Though he seemed indifferent toward vampires and lycans, Amalia was starting to understand... perhaps because of Selene's presence, he hadn't wiped them all out yet.