Absolute Vampire System

The surgical room was a blur of blood, urgency, and chaos. Monitors beeped erratically, alarms screaming warnings no one could stop. Bright white light bathed the operating table, where the man's chest—no, what remained of it—lay shattered, a cavern of torn muscle and cracked bone. The ribcage was a jigsaw of ruin, impossible to piece together. Arteries leaked life like rivers, pooling red on sterile sheets.

The doctors moved fast—too fast, yet not fast enough. Clamps, sutures, defibrillators, every drug in the book—they'd tried everything.

"It's not f**king working!" one of them growled, sweat dripping from his brow.

"BP's crashing! He's coding again!" someone shouted.

"Nothing's stabilizing," another snapped. "None of the f**king meds are doing a damn thing!"

The lead surgeon—Dr. Han—froze mid-motion, his gloves soaked, trembling. He looked at the monitors, then at the open chest that refused to beat, to breathe, to live. A heavy silence fell. Then, like a dam breaking—

"F**K!" He flung his instruments across the room. "We're done! We perch him up, clean him, and watch him die. There's nothing left to try!"

His voice broke at the end.

Hands lowered. Silence answered him.

Han ripped his gloves off and stormed out, pushing through the swinging doors, his coat stained and eyes wild.

In the hallway, Lia was waiting. Her eyes were already red, swollen. She stood as he came through the doors, face twisted in a storm of fear and rage.

"WILL HE BE OKAY?!" she screamed. "TELL ME SOMETHING!"

Dr. Han didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, breathing hard. There was no strength left in his voice.

"Nothing's working on the kid," he said quietly.

"What the f**k are you talking about?!" Lia shouted back, voice cracking.

Han ran a hand through his hair, stained fingers smearing red across his scalp. "I don't know... none of it makes sense."

"What if you give him more drugs?! Pump his heart—do something!"

"If we do that—he dies a painful fking death. You want that?! Fk it!" He slammed his back into the wall, then pushed off and walked away, defeated.

Lia fell to her knees.

Her hands trembled as she pulled them to her face. Tears streamed down. "I'm sorry… I'm so f**king sorry…" she whispered to someone who wasn't even there. "I promised I'd protect him…"

Her sister's face flashed in her mind—bright, smiling, long gone.

Lia stood, legs weak, and walked to the window overlooking the hospital courtyard. The sun was low, barely clinging to the horizon, bleeding orange and gold into a darkening sky.

She pressed her forehead to the glass.

"If there's a god up there… prove it. Prove me wrong. I swear I don't believe in you, but… please. Just this once…"

She didn't expect an answer.

—

At the other end of the hall, Marcus and Julius stood silent. They'd seen the look in Dr. Han's eyes.

The two men approached him, slow.

"Doctor," Marcus said. "What's his condition?"

Dr. Han's lips parted, but all that came out was a rasp. "He won't make it. I don't think he will. It's like his body's rejecting every damn thing we try."

Julius clenched his jaw. Marcus turned away, fists tight at his side.

"Since when… does a Gate jump from C to S?" Marcus whispered. "Damn it…"

A light flickered behind his eyes. Not metaphorical—real.

A white aura began to shimmer around him, flickering like the edges of burning wood. But the wood… was him. His body—the fuel.

—

Inside the surgical room, the machines had gone quiet. Ethan lay motionless. His heart wasn't beating.

And yet—his finger twitched.

The nurse cleaning his body dropped the towel.

She blinked once, then twice—and bolted toward the doors.

"DOCTOR!" she screamed. "He moved! I swear, he moved!"

Elias sat in the hush of his office, the city dimmed beneath the curtain of nightfall. His laptop glowed faintly, casting cold light across a face worn by too many hours and too much loss. He stared at the screen, brows furrowed, lost in thought.

"They say a hunter's power is fixed at the moment of awakening," he said softly. "That once it surfaces, it's over. No going further. No changing what's been given."

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling.

"But this world… doesn't care what we believe. It changes anyway."

Elias walked slowly to the window, looking out at the skyline as thunder rumbled in the distance.

"There was once a scientist," he said, more to the glass than to himself. "He didn't wield power. He didn't fight monsters. He just watched nature… and realized it didn't favor the strongest or the smartest. It favored those who changed. Those who adapted. He called it evolution."

A knock came at the door.

His secretary entered, holding a fresh folder. "Just came in, sir."

Elias took it and flipped it open.

The moment his eyes hit the name, he froze.

First Name: Damien

Last Name: Cross

His fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the folder.

"…Damien," he said under his breath, the weight of the name dragging something old to the surface. "Damn it…"

He stepped back, closing the folder gently and placing it on the desk like it held something fragile.

"I'm sorry, old friend. I wasn't there when I should've been."

Before the memory could settle, his phone buzzed.

Marcus.

Elias answered. "Talk to me."

"Sir, situation at the hospital. It's the kid—Ethan," Marcus said. "His condition tanked. Chest cavity crushed. No vitals. Heart stopped. The surgical team called it."

Elias closed his eyes. "I see."

"But then… his hand moved. Just a twitch. And something shifted in the room. Energy. Pressure. I don't know what to call it, sir. But it wasn't normal."