Guilty

September 17th, 2221 — 07:29 a.m.

After an entire night deprived of food, Marius V Drácula lay on the cold floor of a cell in the lowest level of Infratron’s dungeon, waiting for the hour of his trial.

"Clank  Clank" 

His concentration as a starving hunter was interrupted by a metallic crash behind him. He turned around to discover a huge and plump man with yellowish, greasy skin covered by an even greasier fur, pounding a fist against the cell bars.

Marius had never seen one before, but he had heard of the infamous infernal ogres who guarded Infratron in the service of the Intermediate Sovereigns. He looked exactly as Marius had imagined him: a boar-like face, enormous ears, and black eyes empty of any soul. A monstrous beauty. The cold expression he wore only made him more intimidating—but not as much as the armor he carried. It consisted of steel-spiked pauldrons and a frilled piece attached to a rectangular breastplate, which bore the emblem of the Shadow Kingdom at its center: a black skull with its jaw open and two large nails driven through its eye sockets. That breastplate, which barely covered the creature’s pronounced chest, was held together by a pair of straps along the sides of his abdomen and under the backplate. There was no chainmail beneath the upper armor; his arms and legs remained exposed, and he wore no helmet. It was evident that all that metal was nothing but decoration—a regulation uniform without purpose. After all, an ogre’s skin was almost as impenetrable as a dragon’s scales.

“It’s time, little prince. Don’t try anything or I’ll split you in half,” the ogre warned, followed by a growl. In response, Marius—always faithful to his manners and resisting his fatigue—managed with difficulty, and after collapsing a couple of times, to stand up and offer a bow to the guard.

“Good evening, esteemed sir. Rest assured, I have no intention of hindering your work,” he said in a refined tone worthy of nobility, smiling warmly from ear to ear—a gesture that drew a look of confusion from the ogre. “So… you will be escorting me?”

“That’s right.” The ogre began coughing with a hand extended in front of his mouth, leaning forward until he regurgitated a metallic object covered in saliva. They were handcuffs. “Back against the wall. Now!”

“Is that really necessary?” Marius asked, unable to hide the disgust the idea of those saliva-soaked cuffs touching his skin caused him.

“Just obey!” The ogre slammed the bars with his hand, sending a shiver down Marius’s spine.

“All right, all right, don’t get angry, my friend.” Marius turned around and placed his hands against the wall as ordered. He tried to glance back over his shoulder but immediately reconsidered when a growl warned him not to.

The ogre brought his snout close to the lock and muttered a few words in Infernal Tongue, causing it to open. He moved the bars aside and approached the prisoner.

“Hands back!” he ordered. Marius complied, offering his wrists so the ogre could place the cuffs with one hand while roughly pushing his neck with the other, pinning his face against the wall.

“Easy there… no need to be that rough,” Marius muttered, trying to suppress the nausea brought not only by the sticky ogre saliva sliding down his arms, but also by the fact that his cheek was pressed against a dry stain of what had once been vomit.

After securing the cuffs, the ogre leaned in and issued a direct order into Marius’s ear.

“Now walk! Try anything and—”

“I know, split in half. Thanks,” Marius replied irritably. “Can you get me off this filthy wall?”

As he walked out of the cell, held by the arm by his furry escort, Marius turned his head to look one last time at the hole. Now, the head of an infernal rat peeked out, staring at him. He knew better than to attribute that kind of behavior to an animal, yet he could not help but chuckle at the idea that the little creature was mocking him.

“Lucky you, little beast,” he murmured, winking at his missed meal.

Marius was brought to the upper level of Infratron, to the Court of Shadows, where he was received by Judge Cerdona and the representatives of four vampire families—including his elder brother, Vlad X Drácula—along with a jury and a crowd of witnesses, all with their eyes on him. Although he usually loved being the center of attention, if he still could, he would have been blushing from embarrassment due to his pitiful appearance: his white suit and purple coat, dirty, torn, and stained with blood; his body covered in bruises and wounds that had yet to heal due to lack of nourishment.

“Move!” the guard demanded, giving him a shove. 

The accused took his place at the central podium, where he was greeted by his lawyer, Conan Grim, an Irish leprechaun in a suit and tie who wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief as he tried to hide his anxiety. He had never faced a case like this in all his years serving the Drácula family.

“Y-y-young Master Marius! What a joy it is to see you! It’s been so long.” he stammered, extending his hand. “Oh—right!” He noticed his client was still cuffed. “S-sorry.”

The ogre freed Marius’s wrists, finishing his task. Marius waved goodbye to him, and the ogre answered with a visibly uncomfortable grimace.

“Conan, you seem rather uneasy,” Marius pointed out.

“What? Not at all!” Conan lied, rubbing his neck and looking away.

After a formal introduction of the political figures, starting with the nobles, then the lawyers, Conan the defender, and the plaintiff representing the State, Markus Griffin, the greatest not only in the entire Realm of Shadows but in all the Relative Plane and one of the most powerful impure vampires.

The court finally introduced Marius himself. The accused responded with a bow toward the public, receiving a loud ovation that had to be silenced by the judge’s order. The trial officially began with the reading of the charges.

“Lord Marius Drácula, Fifth of His Name, Regent of Wickeld and Warden of the Macabre Graves of America, is accused of conspiring against the royal Drácula family, forging alliances with inferior races in order to command invading forces with the intent to start a war against the Literal Plane, organizing and leading an extermination campaign in association with the Shedo against the human species, organizing terrorist attacks in association with the same group in the Nation of Storms, and…” The judge took a deep breath before continuing, a heavy silence filling the room. “You are charged with… being an accomplice in the creation of the malignant spell that has plunged reality into the chaos known as… the Eternal Night.” The room turned deathly silent until the judge spoke again. “How do you plead?”

“Guilty” the accused declared, his head lowered. Marius answered according to what he and Conan had agreed upon during their previous meeting, when they realized how useless it was to deny the obvious, and that the best chance to avoid execution was pushing for a lesser punishment. However, his lawyer had not understood Marius’s true intentions. 

“…Indeed… I am guilty. Guilty of trying to restore the Drácula family to its former glory…” He slowly raised his head and his voice. “I am guilty!. Guilty of caring for the well-being of our people, and I am guilty of seeking justice for our brothers who fell at the hands of the filthy humans!” he declared loudly, glaring defiantly at the judge.

Behind him, the crowd erupted. Some celebrated his words, others cursed him, and others, unsure how to react, remained motionless, reflecting on what would come next.

“Silence!” the judge ordered, slamming his gavel against the desk.

“Master Marius, please mind your words!” Conan pleaded, tugging at the young vampire’s clothes.

“Lord Drácula, although you were not entirely clear, the court recognizes your declaration of guilt unless you oppose it.” Marius offered no objection and simply let out a small chuckle. “Very well. Your crimes against the Shadow Kingdom and against humanity and their world…”

“Their world?” Marius interrupted. “Earth is ours by natural right as the superior race!” He turned his back to the judge and addressed the civilians and the press instead, ignoring the judge calling for order. “Humans cast us out from the world that saw our birth, and not only that, they reduced our existence to myth and trapped us in this prison we now call home out of resignation and submission, confined with every nightmare and horror born from the human psyche. But we are not fiction. We are real! And now they know it. They fear us again, and what did our leaders do? They made pacts with our enemies and captors to annihilate the demons humans themselves created…”

“And what should we have done?! Humans of the present are innocent of their ancestors’ sins!” Markus Griffin protested, rising from his seat. “Your immortality distorts your perception of reality, something typical of pureblood vampires.” That last comment offended several members of the royal representatives.

“You only empathize with them because you were human once!” Marius shot back. “They may not have been the ones who trapped us here, but with the power to free us, they chose not to. They denied us and continued living at the cost of our suffering!”

“As you said earlier, for centuries humans knew nothing of our existence or of the magic capable of breaking the seals. The few elder masters who possessed such knowledge exiled themselves to the Knight’s Belt Islands. There was no way for humans to intervene in our isolation within the Relative Plane.” Marius tried to speak again, but Markus raised his voice first, having only paused to breathe. “And regarding our mythification, it was a strategy to protect the barrier between worlds. As we all know, while we remain here, our power depends on humanity’s fear. Only by forgetting us could they prevent us from becoming a threat to existential balance.”

“Balance is a joke!” Marius declared. “A human invention, a false morality meant to oppress the beings of this plane into irrelevance. Those they labeled as Relative, False, Imaginary… especially those who embody their darkest fears. A group they placed us in. The Shedo. The ones we should be supporting.”

“Supporting the Shedo?!” his brother exclaimed, rising from his seat with eyes burning in rage. “Are you insane?! Those abominations took us half a millennium to defeat so we could build our kingdom!”

“No, brother! Insanity is believing ourselves above them. The war we fought for dominion over these cursed lands was a mistake. We treated them the way humans treated us: as monsters.”

“We are monsters,” Markus declared.

“What did you say, impure?” Vlad roared. “Mind your words!”

“Vampires were born from a curse. All of us descend from humanity, and yet we pretend to draw distinctions between the born and the transformed.”

“Don’t use this trial as a platform for your propaganda!” Marius demanded.

“Should I not do what you are doing right now? Hypocrite!”

“That’s enough!” the judge exclaimed, slamming the gavel so hard he cracked his desk and shattered the gavel entirely. “This is a trial, not a political debate! The accused has pleaded guilty, and what follows is determining his sentence. Míster Griffin, Mister Grim, did you reach an agreement?”

 “Well…” Conan muttered, stretching the syllables in embarrassment.

“No, your honor. The accused refused to acknowledge his guilt at all times until now, including during his interrogation. But I am willing to support an appeal for a lighter sentence than the one he deserves if, now that he has confessed his charges, Lord Drácula commits to cooperating with the law by providing the necessary information to combat our current crisis, including the identities of the sorcerers who broke the seals and cast the Eternal Night curse.”

“It is useless to make a pact with this man,” Vlad said. “He cannot be trusted!”

“Even so, I am willing to take the risk…” Markus bowed to the judge. “If allowed, of course.”

“That depends. Is the accused willing to accept this agreement?”

“Say yes, say yes!” Conan whispered desperately, hopping in an attempt to reach Marius’s ear.

“Never!” Marius answered, staring at Markus with absolute contempt.

Conan could do nothing but yank at the few hairs on his head while muttering curses in the fairy tongue.

Thus, the young vampire’s fate was sealed. Fire awaited him. But he knew they would not let him die until exhausting every possible method to extract information from him. He had to find a way to escape and head to Japan to fulfill his role in his master’s plan. But… how?

September 21st, 2221 — 11:35 p.m.

Once again confined to his cell, awaiting his execution and on the verge of succumbing to starvation, the starving prisoner’s mind began to torment him with waking nightmares. Nothing new for him—he had spent years experiencing these visions whenever he sensed death approaching, something that had become increasingly constant as of late. It was always the same: a familiar silhouette appeared—blurred, glowing, yet unmistakably familiar. If he were superstitious, Marius might have believed it to be a ghost, but that wasn’t the case. To him, death was the end. Even so, he liked the idea of dreaming that his beloved Gill had truly come to visit him from the afterlife.

“My love,” said the silhouette, her voice identical to that of Marius’s wife as he remembered it. “It seems we will be together again very soon.”

“Not yet,” Marius replied. “I can’t die until I finish my mission. I refuse to perish in flames without doing my part and taking my place in the creation of the new world.”

“You’ve already done enough.”

“No, that’s not true. I made so many mistakes the master will never forgive me. I’ve failed—I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“I never asked you to make that promise. It has only become a curse for you.”

“You deserve justice, Gill! That’s why I made that promise. Only when I fulfill it will I accept my body burning and turning to ashes!”

Marius grabbed two of the cell bars and tried to force them apart with all his strength, unsuccessfully.

“Damn it!”

“Please,” the silhouette began to sob, “stop fighting and atone for your sins with death.”

“Not even with my life could I repay the evil I’ve committed. If heaven exists, I am not worthy of it—I swear it! And even if you were to receive me on the other side, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”

“Who are you talking to?” asked a familiar voice from a male shape hidden in the shadows on the wall in front of the cell. “You’re still hearing her? I thought therapy helped you with that.”

“Who are you?”

Marius leaned against the bars, but even then he couldn’t distinguish the mysterious visitor until he stepped forward. It was Vlad, still wearing the white tuxedo and red cape from the trial, despite several hours having passed since it ended. He gave off a stench of liquor mixed with blood.

“My dear brother" Marius said sarcastically "What brings you here?”

“Let’s say…” Vlad pulled back his sleeve, revealing a tattoo on his wrist: a green heptagram, each point marked with the profile of an animal representing one of the seven demonic virtues—the viper of envy, the snail of sloth, the dolphin of lust, the bear of wrath, the cat of pride, the mosquito of gluttony, and the raccoon of greed. “Business.”

Marius stepped back, eyes wide and breathing uneven.

“This must be a joke… You’re a Black Star? You serve Lord Macabro too?!”

Vlad placed a finger against his lips, signaling his younger brother to be quiet, and Marius obeyed.

“There will be time for questions later. For now, accept the fact that we’re on the same side—and from this moment on, I am your commanding superior. I’m here to break you out and help you carry out the orders Lord Greenwater gave you.”

“Don’t do it, my love,” pleaded the ghostly silhouette, placing her hands on Marius’s shoulders.

“And how exactly do you plan to get me out of here?” Marius asked. “We can’t use our powers in here.”

“But we can use this.”

Vlad reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass vial containing a phosphorescent blue liquid.

“No, please,” the silhouette begged, nearly in tears.

“You want me to turn into a parasite?”

“You’ll take a Canus alpha as your host. He and his pack leave for Japan tomorrow. Once you arrive, you can begin your duties in Tokyo. It is essential that until Lord Macabro gives the order to proceed with Project Shibuya, you keep a low profile and remain in your parasite form.”

“Assuming the Canus can satisfy my thirst. Otherwise…”

“I fully trust Lord Andris’s brood,” Vlad interrupted, bringing the vial closer to his brother’s face. “Now drink it.”

“No, Marius! You don’t have to continue with this madness!” the silhouette screamed before fading away like a mirage, mirroring the moment doubt dissolved inside the man surrendering himself to an unbreakable will.

Marius uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents in a single gulp, like a shot of vodka. Immediately, he felt his insides twisting into a spiral; then his limbs, starting from the fingers, contracted and were drawn into the vortex of viscera inside him. Within seconds, his entire body compressed into a small, meatball-like creature with two stubby protrusions acting as arms, which he used to crawl to Vlad’s feet, leaving behind a trail of yellowish slime.

Vlad picked up his brother, now a parasite, and slid him into a test tube, sealing it with a cork.

The brothers escaped Infertron and made their way to Sherpoll, capital of the Shadow Kingdom, whose abandoned catacombs—unused for a century—served as headquarters for the Dark Brotherhood, specifically the Division of Envy, commanded by Vlad X Drácula.

September 19th, 2221 — 10:31 a.m.

A pack of vampires belonging to the Canus race—an alpha, two hunters, and nine sentinels—migrated illegally across the spacetime border between the literal plane and the relative plane, hidden inside barrels of infernal coal destined for Heros Japan’s headquarters in Tokyo.

The vampire infiltration was compromised due to an unexpected and suspicious security measure: a magical barrier conjured by several sorcerers to detect vampires.

As soon as the threat-detection mantle surrounding the city sensed the presence of the Canus, some guards stopped the truck. Before they could even begin inspecting the vehicle, the Canus launched their attack, killing the guards on-site and fleeing, leaving only the truck’s driver alive—who managed to identify only four vampires instead of the seven that were truly there.

The Night Knight began a hunting campaign, forcing their prey to hide beneath the Undeskin, outside the pursuers’ sight and sensors while they awaited Vlad’s orders. However, days passed with nothing. The plan stalled, and the deadline approached. Without Marius or the instructions needed to proceed with preparations, Project Shibuya would be compromised.

As time passed, hunger eroded the judgment of the Canus vampires. They even began to consider cannibalism, knowing it would mean certain death, but at least it would make their final moments less agonizing. There is no greater torture for a vampire than hunger.

The parasite inside the Canus twisted his guts, demanding nourishment. If he couldn’t feed both of them soon, their end was inevitable. There was nothing they could do but wait for death—or risk everything on a hunt that would likely kill them all.

October 26th, 2221 — 12:00 a.m 

A surge of magic emanated from the central sector: a summoning circle. Three conjurers. Perfect—one for each. Driven by hunger, the Canus ran toward the summoning rift, where their bodies dissolved upon entering the singularity, reducing themselves to a thick, viscous soup concentrated into a single lumpy mass wrapped in a pale light.

Upon emerging on the other side, in the literal plane, the Canus regained their forms. When the alpha’s vision returned, he saw three people: two men and one girl. She seemed to be leading the ritual, since the scent of the vital essence flowing from the circle matched hers, and she bore a cut on the index finger of her left hand. All three wore red robes covered in black symbols.

The alpha examined each of his prey. The girl was young, with pale skin that looked soft and easy to tear—surely pleasurable to chew. Her hair, black as night, would sell well to the Skinless Men; they could certainly craft a fine wig out of such a beautiful mane. Her hazel eyes trembled with nerves, yet remained fixed with determination. Watching that confidence crumble into horror as he sucked her entrails out would be delightful—and seeing the light leave her eyes, even more so.

But the two men beside her were equally appetizing. Especially the burly old man with tanned skin, whose face and neck were covered in old scars. His long, fluffy gray beard resembled cotton candy. Beneath his gray eyes he bore enormous eye bags—clearly a stressful life. He looked like an overstuffed sausage wearing a robe that barely contained his muscular frame, especially his broad, thick arms that strained the sleeves to their limits.

The other man was nothing like him: skinny, hairless, middle-aged, with a stretched face, pronounced cheekbones, and a square jaw. Oddly enough, he had long brown hair tied into a ponytail that slid over his shoulder down to his chest, peeking out from the robe. Perhaps he was less appetizing physically, but his terrified expression was charming—perfect for those who enjoy playing with their food. Especially those black, beady eyes that looked like a cornered mouse facing a viper.

It was obvious to the alpha that these were amateurs playing at summoning monsters: their faces were uncovered before the summoned creature manifested, when protocol dictated they should unveil themselves at the exact moment of arrival. And they hadn’t bothered to bow, either. If he and his companions had truly been interested in forming a pact, such disrespect would still get them killed.

Tired of waiting, he stepped forward, curved his back, and planted his hands on the floor, adopting his stance to attack—his eyes fixed on the girl he had already chosen as his prey. The other two Canus noticed and each selected one of the men.

Lost in his hunger, the alpha unintentionally stimulated his stomach, which growled louder than ever. The parasite, unaware of the situation, could only suffer from the excruciating hunger brought by their shared existence.

Suddenly, a nauseating smell reached both the alpha and the parasite: the scent of a wolf—carried by a bead of sweat sliding down the forehead of Shirotsuki Gin, who hid a few meters away beneath a camouflage mantle, stalking his targets.

A sharp pain shot through the alpha’s belly, turning into a fiery agony; something was tearing at his intestines and striking his ribs. It was the parasite—beginning to revert inside him.

“Good evening,” Marius said cheerfully.

Inside the alpha, Marius began regaining his form, laughing as he bit and tore through the beast’s organs and tissues.

The alpha, desperate to rip the parasite out, clawed at his own abdomen until he skinned himself, all while Marius’s incessant laughter echoed within him.

Finally, the dying Canus tore his belly open, spilling his entrails across the floor. His body fell to its knees and collapsed. The blood loss rendered him unconscious, and within seconds, everything went black.

From the vampire’s lifeless innards emerged Marius, stretching as if waking from a long nap, rolling playfully in the monster’s guts.

“What a relief. I can finally stretch a bit.”

After loosening his limbs, he stood up and looked around, trying to make sense of the situation. His mind was a jumble, and he still hadn’t fully processed the memories of the gutted Canus whose blood covered his entire body.

“So… a ritual?” he asked rhetorically. “How tacky! No offense, but whoever drew that circle has terrible pulse. And those robes…” He snorted. “They’re hideous.”

Nichihara Sun, hidden under a camouflage mantle beside Gin, resisted the urge to scream at Marius for insulting her sewing work.

“I’d assume you’re just some occultism amateurs playing with fire, but… that stench gives you away.” A disgusted expression formed on his face. “Where’s that filthy dog?”

“Here!” Gin shouted, revealing himself from the camouflage.

Marius turned around and looked up at a young woman with gray hair, dressed in a black leather suit. The scent of a Jinro emanated from her.

The captain of Squadron 3 jumped and landed before the vampire.

“Marius V Drácula.”

“Bingo. And who might you be… puppy?”