Terra Aeterna: The Rise of Humanity's War Machine

In a lavish city villa:

"Minister of Defense János Szabó, can you explain how my two thousand soldiers were wiped out just like that?"

The older man in military uniform speaks coldly, his anger barely contained. His eyes, sharp and unforgiving, betray profound disappointment and rage.

Before him, Minister of Defense János Szabó remains calm. He nods slightly, then replies in a tone that almost sounds like a smile:

"General Ferenc Veér, please don't jump to anger. There is something you need to see first. After that, you'll understand."

He calmly slides a laptop across the table to the general. Ferenc Veér accepts it stiffly, suspicion writ large on his face. When the screen powers on, his eyes lock onto it.

Surveillance footage begins to play—those final moments when their troops are slaughtered by bloodthirsty creatures. Vampires. General Veér watches as soldiers fall without meaningful resistance, their bodies torn apart. Then the video shifts to secret lab experiments: vampires as test subjects. Blood assays. Injections. Astonishing regenerative reactions.

After several minutes, General Veér closes the laptop slowly. His face is paler than before.

"Is it true…?" he whispers, disbelieving. "This monster's blood can… cure disease?"

"It is," János Szabó confirms, arms crossed. "You saw it yourself. Unfortunately, the creature we captured was a low-class specimen. That's why I deployed your forces to locate the so-called 'Vampire Elder'—the one whose blood, if reports are correct, could stave off death itself."

General Veér stares at János for a long moment, then slowly shakes his head.

"János… don't you realize? Anyone who drinks their blood becomes a monster like them."

"I know," János nods lightly. "But that's why we must capture the Elder alive. We need to study his blood. If true, this is more than a medical breakthrough. This is… immortality." He cracks a grin. "We're no longer young, General. Don't you want to live forever?"

The words hang heavy in the air. Veér falls silent, gazing at the open laptop. The final clip shows the low-class vampire they captured, claiming the Elders have lived for thousands of years.

No one truly wants to die, especially those who have tasted great power.

Finally, General Veér exhales. "I agree. But these monsters are too dangerous. Why not just launch missiles at their lair?"

János shakes his head immediately. "No—that would destroy everything, including the Vampire Elder we need alive. We must capture him intact."

"Then how do we kill them?" Veér asks.

"Silver bullets," János replies firmly. "We need mass production. But we can't do it alone. We need the approval of President Ferenc Mádl and Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. They, too, are no longer young. I'm certain they'll understand the value of immortality."

General Veér narrows his eyes, then nods. "Very well. I'll prepare the forces. We can't use missiles, but we still have plenty of heavy weapons. You handle the political side."

"Leave it to me," János says arrogantly.

General Veér departs the villa with determined strides. Meanwhile, János Szabó packs up the laptop, boards his armored car, and speeds toward President Ferenc Mádl's palace. A new plan is taking shape—and the world will never be the same.

---

Vampire Manor – Night

The scent of blood and victory still hangs in the air. Vampires cheer, toast, and dance in triumph. They've just claimed a brutal victory over humans—so swift that blood still drips across the banquet hall floor. Yet amid the euphoria, Kraven stands motionless.

His gaze is dark as he stares at the night sky through a tall, open window. He knows this victory is fleeting. Tonight, the humans came with only standard weapons. But next time?

"They'll bring heavy arms… missiles… maybe even air support," he thinks grimly. "And this old manor will become our tomb."

Kraven clenches his fist. He can't wait any longer. Marcus—still asleep in the cellar—is no longer the priority. Waking him would unleash madness. If Marcus learns the other Elders are dead, he'll lose control. And Kraven can't risk losing a throne that's within his grasp.

Striding to a small raised dais at the end of the hall, Kraven raises his hand for silence.

Kraven:

"Quiet!"

Laughter and revelry halt abruptly. Every vampire turns to him. Tension ripples through the gathering, replacing the festive mood.

Kraven:

"This victory means nothing if we're all dead tomorrow! The government knows this place exists. Next time they'll come with aircraft, with missiles. We can no longer stay here!"

Anxiety shows on many faces. Some whisper among themselves; others lower their heads.

Vampire 24:

"Then, Boss… where do we go?"

Kraven:

"We'll move to the old castle in the northern mountains. It's remote. Safe for now."

Vampire 26:

"And... what of Elder Marcus? Should we wake him?"

Kraven frowns, then answers coldly:

"No. Marcus is asleep. He is safe—no one disturbs him. I will deal with him later. Now, we must survive first."

He scans the assembled vampires, then issues the final command:

"Disperse. Travel separately. Use different routes. We will rendezvous at the castle. Remember—do not let anyone follow you."

Vampires:

"Yes, Lord!"

In the sudden, tense silence, one by one they slip away from the old manor, vanishing into the night's shadows. They flee, leaving behind memories and blood, heading to a new hiding place… Meanwhile, in a cold, silent cellar, Marcus remains asleep in his black, carved coffin, unaware that the world around him is beginning to crumble.

---

In the mountains outside the city, the werewolves' temporary base stands concealed behind dense trees. An ominous stillness blankets the place since the shocking news arrived—the government has attacked the vampires' old manor.

A Lycan approaches, breathing hard, as he reports to Lucian.

Lycan 34:

"Boss, bad news. The government has begun assaulting the old vampire manor—Kraven's stronghold. They struck directly... it's chaos."

He relays the details he's heard, quickly and anxiously.

Lucian:

"Hmm… So the government is really attacking the vampires."

Lucian's expression is serious.

"Luckily Selene warned us in advance. Otherwise, their forces might have turned toward our base now."

Raze:

"Leader, what's our next move?"

Raze asks, eyes sharp yet showing concern.

Lucian:

"We stay hidden here for now. Let's monitor how their battle unfolds. If the government wipes out the vampires, we'll move immediately."

Lucian knows they lack the strength to fight a fully armed human army. They can battle vampires, but taking on soldiers with heavy weaponry would be suicide.

Raze:

"Understood… But our supplies are limited. We can't hold out long."

Lucian:

"I'll contact Selene. We'll see if she can help us last until the time comes."

He falls silent, thoughts racing. In this situation, only Selene can be relied on. She knows too much, and she understands how to navigate a world hostile to night creatures.

Raze interrupts, confused.

Raze:

"But why not ask Kenthelion? He surely has resources. Wouldn't it be faster to seek his help directly?"

Lucian turns slowly, looking at Raze as if speaking to a child.

Lucian:

"Fool… Kenthelion is not like us."

His tone is flat but firm.

"He despises mutated creatures like us. The only reason he restrains himself is because of Selene. But Selene… she's different. Even though she's a vampire and we are Lycans, she understands us. We and she—monsters in humanity's eyes."

Raze:

"So… will Selene truly help us? But she doesn't have enough power to fully aid our leader, right?"

Lucian exhales. Hearing that question, he only shakes his head slowly.

Raze may be tough in battle, but his mind is too full of muscle. He doesn't grasp the complex relationship between Selene and Kenthelion. Sometimes Lucian feels weary leading a subordinate so strong yet so dull in strategy.

Lucian:

"Selene is capable. That's enough. You need not worry her."

He meets Raze's gaze, affirming his decision.

"I will contact her when our supplies truly run low."

---

Aboard the Dominion Battlecruiser — Low Earth Orbit

In the main command center of the Dominion-class Battlecruiser, Kenthelion stands before a cold blue holographic display. His communication with Alexander Corvinus has just ended—a brief conversation loaded with meaning.

Alexander requested one thing: the key.

In return, Kenthelion asked for a small vial of his own blood—for Amalia.

Alexander, though reluctant, agreed.

In a corner of the room, Amalia—the vampire noble now clad in a sleek black combat uniform—quietly observes the exchange. Her eyes narrow; something flickers within: an emotion nearly unreadable… a stirring of feeling she hides beneath her usual arrogance.

Amalia:

"I won't thank you for that."

Her tone is sharp and haughty, as always.

Kenthelion turns with a mocking smile. His gaze unwavering as he appraises Amalia like a commander evaluating a weapon—beautiful and deadly.

Kenthelion:

"Ha… ck ck, I didn't ask for your thanks either."

His eyes narrow as he notices the exposed white skin at Amalia's throat and her defiantly raised chin. She makes no effort to hide herself—knowing he's watching, she holds her ground.

Amalia:

"You…!"

Her lips clench, cheeks flushing—anger or embarrassment, it's hard to tell. She abruptly turns her face away.

Suddenly, Selene steps forward, her expression serious.

Selene:

"Kenthelion, why does Alexander want that key? Does he… intend to free William?"

There's clear concern in her voice. She knows who William is. She knows the monster locked behind that ancient seal—her own kin, who has lost all trace of humanity.

Kenthelion:

"Alexander wants to free his son. But he himself doesn't know… whether it's to kill him or to atone for his sins."

He takes a deep breath, staring at the star chart projected on the tactical table.

Kenthelion:

"Selene, tell Jacob to stand ready. The war will begin in a few days."

Selene:

"Understood. I'll head to the command center and relay your orders immediately."

Her tone shifts—energized. She seems alive; her eyes burn like fire.

Selene remains a vampire. But on the battlefield, she is a goddess of slaughter.

Kenthelion watches her go with a small smile.

Kenthelion (thinking):

A wild woman who loves to fight… They're all like that… and somehow I'm surrounded by them. But indeed, women like her… can never be defeated by ordinary men.