Vampire: World of Blood

In the void of eternal absence, there was nothing, no existence, no nonexistence, not even the concept of nothingness itself. It was a great blackness, a profound emptiness where even the idea of absence had no place. And yet, despite the utter lack of everything, there was... something present.

That something was the First Law.

It was a law etched not in stone or sound but in essence, the embodiment of one being. That being was Merciless himself, a figure who stood alone as both the embodiment of an individual and the definition of creation itself.

In a world without existence, where a book lay unwritten and a universe had yet to be born, he stood as the only constant; the spark that kindled possibility within the void.

Four neon-blue eyes opened, their light piercing the emptiness. To Merciless, all of reality unfolded as fiction, for in this vacant universe, fiction was the only truth. With the quill in his grasp, he began to forge the first story, breathing form and meaning into the first page.

Sitting in silence from where he was, Merciless was thinking to himself. If he was to begin, it had to be with something meaningful, a place that would stand as the highest plane of existence, one that would guide and shape every story to follow.

And so he began crafting his first story. He called it Legends of the Land of Horror, a story about a realm that would rise above all others, reigning as the pinnacle of creation within the Fantamonicon. It would be the home of the First Law and the very origin of existence.

This would serve as the foundation upon which every future tale would be constructed, a narrative akin to a table of contents in a vast, unwritten tome, encapsulating the very blueprint of all that was to come.

The ink of his own blood traced its way across his flesh, carving words into the raw surface as if his body itself were the pages of a sacred book. Each word glowed faintly, pulsing with power, as though the act of writing carried a weight far beyond simple creation.

Merciless continued to write, line after line, his focus unwavering. With every word, the story took shape, and what began as a fleeting idea became an undeniable reality. The world he saw as fantasy was no longer just perception; it was real, brought to life through his will.

["An unmeasurable cabin manifested, its presence nestled among towering oak trees beside a tranquil lake. Above, a vast, star-strewn sky stretched endlessly, with a radiant, oversized moon casting its glow."]

["This was no ordinary cabin. It was the embodiment of the Law of Correspondence, a physical manifestation of balance itself. It governed the harmony of all things, ensuring that every source fell under its unbreakable order."]

["Once within its reach, nothing could slip free from its grasp. The cabin stood as the cornerstone of creation, the unseen force that ensured every law operated in perfect unity, maintaining equilibrium across all existence. Its influence was limitless and absolute, the foundation upon which reality itself rested."]

Soon after, more words began to manifest, and as a result, it became a reality.

["On the porch of the cabin, a figure sat quietly in a creaking rocking chair, the sound breaking the heavy silence of the night. The figure was tall; his presence was, for a better lack of a word, purely unsettling. This was Merciless... but not the real Merciless, but rather a replica, a character he made to be his avatar in the Fantamonicon. His long, black hair shifted in the cool breeze, the strands blending into the deep shadows that seemed to pool around him."]

["Above him, black crows wheeled and cried, their sharp calls cutting through the air. Others perched in the twisted branches of the ancient oak trees that surrounded the cabin, their dark feathers blending with the suffocating blackness of the sky. The forest felt alive for some reason, but not in any comforting way; more like it was watching, waiting, and holding its breath."]

["The night here wasn't ordinary; the darkness of the sky was not a night sky; rather, it was a void. The darkness seemed to have a weight to it, pressing down on everything and seeping into every corner. It wasn't empty; it felt full but full of things you couldn't see, couldn't name, and didn't want to understand."]

But in that moment, Merciless sat there as he looked around him, as his avatar said.

"For now, this shall do."

And with that, he closes the Fantamonicon and looks around him, as he said to himself.

"Yeah, this is a goo... UGHhh!!... w-What... why do I... agh... why do I fweel soo... so... weak?"

Merciless said to himself, The Fantamonicoon disappeared as he tried too get up but fell.

"What the hell is this?"

He stood there, disoriented and unsure of what had just happened. A voice cut through his confusion; it was Anastasia, calling from the top of the pyramid's altar. The moment her eyes landed on Merciless, weak and trembling, she rushed toward him.

"MASTER!!"

Anastasia reached his side, her gaze filled with alarm as she took in his condition. Merciless's body was trembling, smoke rising from his skin, which seemed to radiate an unnatural heat. His towering, intimidating near-nine-foot frame began to shrink, reverting to his previous height of six-foot-five. Even his tail, once a menacing accessory, diminished in size and receded.

Yet none of this stopped Anastasia. She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly as she cried out.

"Master, are you alright? MASTER!!"

Merciless, though visibly drained, managed a faint, strained smile.

"I'll live, Space Girl... Don't worry."

He said, his voice hoarse but resolute. He then looked up, his piercing eyes settling on another figure descending the steps.

"Although I think I'm owed an explanation... Wouldn't you agree, Delilah?"

Delilah approached them with a measured pace, her expression calm yet carrying amusement.

She stopped just a few steps away, her voice soft as it was expressive as she began to speak.

"This is your wish, isn't it, Merciless?"

She said her tone was understanding.

"You wanted to systemize your powers, to turn them into laws, making them permanent within the Fantamonicon in hopes of bringing them out in a modded distinction via Memory Skin into reality. But to do that, you need your blood... your essence. It's the only medium capable of writing these laws into existence of the book."

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing.

"By using your blood as ink, you're carving pieces of yourself into the book. Those pieces become the very foundation of creation within its universe, cementing your role as the source of all existence there. But every time you write, you lose a part of yourself permanently. If you give too much, you risk becoming a mindless abstraction, an empty shell with nothing left to sustain your being."

Delilah stepped closer, her voice softening slightly, though it retained its weight.

"To prevent that, you must rely on your vampiric nature. By consuming the blood of others, you can replenish what you've sacrificed, like refilling the ink in a pen. It's a cycle: you give a part of yourself to shape the universe, and you take from others to ensure you don't collapse under the weight of your own creation."

She smiled faintly, her gaze steady.

"Think of this drawback as the balance necessary to wield such power. Without it, you won't endure long enough to finish what you've started; you get what I am saying, right?"

At these words, Anastasia tightened her hold on Merciless, her eyes searching his face for reassurance. He gave her a faint nod, his determination flickering back to life.

"I see, so it's like that."

Merciless said to himself as he fixed himself upward. It has been a while since he felt as weak as he is now.

His eyes were looking towards Delilah as he began to speak.

"So, every time I use the Fantamonicon, I'll need blood to re-sustain myself?"

Merciless muttered as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, his movements unsteady and labored. He glanced down at his trembling hands, the weakness coursing through him like a heavy weight. His fingers curled into a tight fist as he let out a low, bitter laugh.

"Haha!... So, this is the price for playing God, huh?"

He straightened, forcing himself to steady his stance despite the lingering fatigue.

"A little annoying, sure, but I'll manage. After all, I am a vampire. Sucking blood isn't exactly a problem for me, though I've always had more of a taste for flesh than blood."

His lips curled into a wry smile.

"Still, if it's blood, I need to refill what I've lost; I suppose I'll have to adapt. No point in complaining about what keeps me standing."

Merciless stood silently, his gaze distant as Anastasia turned her attention to Delilah, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

"So, Master is hungry?!"

Anastasia asks, her concern growing by the second, so much she asked.

"If that's the case, couldn't he just feed on me? Would that work? Am I a valid source, or does it have to be one of his... acquired targets?"

Natrually Delilah' replied, and with a calm but firm tone.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be an acquired target."

Delilah began, as she continued.

"But regular blood won't cut it. Merciless isn't an ordinary vampire. He's an exceptionally powerful one; so powerful, in fact, that even draining the blood of an entire planet of mortal humans wouldn't be enough to sustain him."

She paused, her gaze locking with Anastasia's.

"You need to understand, he requires energy on a level equal to his own, and right now, he's using his blood to create conceptual ink, shaping his own universe within the Fantamonicon. That takes a toll unlike anything you can imagine."

She gestured toward Merciless, who was steadying himself despite his weakened state.

"At this moment, he's severely drained. In terms of power, he's probably only as strong as five level-three vampires combined. That might sound impressive, but compared to his usual strength, it's a significant drop. The only advantage he retains is the durability of a level-five vampire, but even that won't protect him indefinitely. Right now, he's vulnerable to attacks from vampires at level three or higher. Without blood from a source equal to or greater than his own strength, he'll stay in this weakened state permanently."

Delilah folded her arms, her voice taking on a sharper edge.

"This is the cost of becoming a god in the way he has chosen. Unless he feeds on the kind of blood he truly needs, this weakness will persist for eternity."

Delilah said, to which Ana look at him and then said to Delilah.

"I see... well I should suffice right?"

"Yes, you could be a source for him."

Delilah began, her voice calm but full with seriousness.

"But it's not that simple, for Merciless to fully sustain himself, he'd have to drain you completely, to the point of Final Death. And you need to understand what that really means."

"For vampires, Final Death is the absolute end. It's not just the destruction of the body; it's the complete erasure of existence. Vampires don't have souls in the way humans do. When a person is turned, their soul information is essentially copied into something called the Spectrum, a kind of network that controls their undead body. If a vampire suffers Final Death, that imprint in the Spectrum is wiped out entirely. It's like deleting a file from a computer. Once it's gone, there's no bringing it back. No resurrection. Nothing."

Delilah inform Anastasia, and she continued as saying as such.

"Draining a vampire completely of their blood will result in Final Death. It's one of the rare, absolute ways a vampire can be killed. In battles between vampires, especially when facing Michellian vampires, this method is often the only way to ensure victory."

"Michellian vampires like yourself are notorious for their regenerative abilities. They can heal from even the smallest fragment of their body; regrowing themselves from a single cell if necessary. This extraordinary trait is unique to their bloodline, making them incredibly difficult to defeat through conventional means."

"One way to counter this regeneration is to drain them completely, down to the very last drop of blood. Without blood to sustain their bloodline abilities, they become powerless, and their body ultimately succumbs. It's a ruthless method, but for a Michellian vampire, it's the only way to ensure they stay dead."

"However, this method of killing can only be carried out by another vampire. And it's not just the Michellian vampires who are vulnerable, any vampire, no matter their strength, would face Final Death if drained to that extreme. It's a grim reality of your kinds existence, a weakness tied to the very nature of your kinds natrual bloodline powers."

Said Delilah.

On the other hand, Merciless began to respond.

"And why didnt you told me of this weakness before hand?"

Merciless asked Delilah who replied as such.

"Dear Customer, when a Djinn grants a wish, there is always a flaw hidden within it. We can't always predict what that flaw will be until the wish is granted. While the nature of my power alters destiny to favor the one making the wish, the consequences, the flaws, only reveal themselves once the wish has been fulfilled."

"For your first wish, the flaw was clear, it couldn't last, and it drew the attention of others. As for your second wish... well, as you can see, it's already showing its own set of complications."

Said Delilah to which she commented.

"Although I could feed you one of my prisoner so you regain your strength, and from there you try to solve around the complications of your flaw."

At these words, Merciless just nodded as he said.

"Yeah that would be apprecia...

But before he could finish, he was taken aback when Anastasia voice went off a sher said.

"Wait... Ms. Delilah... I think I finally know what I want my wish to be. You gave me the time to think about it, and now I feel like I need to act on it. Is it possible for you to grant a wish that can help my master? For instance, could you make my body have an infinite reserve of blood? Or better yet... could you make it so that my master can regain strength by drinking blood, no matter the quality of it?"

Asked Anastasia, however, what Delilah said next was a little heart jerking to say the least.

"I could, but you'd need the equivalent amount of points your master used when he made the wish to create the Fantamonicon. However, with your points, you can alter the wish in a way that could still benefit him. For example, I could grant a wish that boosts the quality of your blood to such an extent that it helps your master recover with only half the blood needed. That way, it won't kill you, though it will weaken you for a time. Also, you'd only be able to have him drink from you three times a day at most."

Said Delilah on the other hand, Ana tried to make the most out of this, as she said.

"Well, can I at least make it so this applies to everyone my master knows or considers family? That way, he'd have access to multiple reserves of blood if needed."

Delilah shook her head slowly and replied.

"You're still short on points... To make it stretch that far, you'll need to refine the wish a little more."

With those words, Anastasia looked down at the weakened Merciless and said quietly, her expression filled with concern.

"I see... sigh... if only I had some extra points... wait... that could actually work... Hey, Djinn, how about this: could I apply this idea to anyone my master truly loves, someone he sees as a lover?"

"This would only work if he drinks from someone he considers his lover, and in return, they would need to feel the same way about him. The idea is that when two people, man and woman, share that kind of bond, the love between them would actually enhance the quality of their blood particulary just the female lover in this case."

Said Anastasia as she continued.

"I know it might sound a little cheesy, but hear me out. By doing this, I can improve my own blood quality using the emotion of love between two parties myself and the master, which would help my master fully use his new book."

"I don't have any wishes of my own, honestly. Master has already given me so much: a new life, a new purpose, a new family, and the power I've always dreamed of. So, it only feels right that I give something back to him. I want to help him, and this is the only way I can think of to do so. Can you grant me this wish, Djinn? Please?"

Delilah looked Anastasia and Merciless look at Anastasia a little taken back as he said.

"Space Girl."

On that though Delilah responded as such.

"How cute... heheh... and amusing."

Delilah mused with a smirk.

"I must admit, that's a clever way of altering your wish. Using love as a sacrificial engine to elevate the quality of blood in both parties... that way, it wouldn't be about how much time per day, but how much love is shared between them to make up for the sustenance that could never be achieved under normal circumstances... But yes, I can grant this wish."

At these words, Ana began to smile as she said.

"Thats great... then please make it so."

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