Morvain made his way upstairs and stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the tap, the steady rush of water filling the room as he scrubbed at the blood on his hands. His movements were frantic at first, then slowed. Lifting his gaze, he caught his own reflection—eyes burning with fury. He forced himself to take a deep breath, softening his expression.
"Charles… is that you?" Morvain asked quietly.
"Yes," came the timid reply as Charles peeked out from the doorway.
Morvain sighed. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
Charles lowered his eyes. "I don't sleep long."
Morvain raised a brow. "That's bad for your health. Go back to bed and get some re—"
"Did you kill that person?" Charles cut in, his voice trembling.
Silence thickened the room.
"…So you saw," Morvain muttered.
"Will you kill me… and the rest too?" Charles asked, his small body shaking.
Morvain froze, shocked by the question. Then, with a humorless chuckle, he turned off the tap and picked up a towel. "Yes. I killed him."
The weight of those words made Charles collapse to the floor, legs giving out beneath him.
"But I won't kill you," Morvain continued, his tone firm but calm. "Or the others. That man threatened my family."
"F-family?" Charles stammered.
Morvain crouched down to meet his eyes. "Yes. Anyone under my roof is family. If someone comes to harm them, I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."
"So… you killed him to protect us?" Charles asked.
Morvain straightened, stepping past him. "That's part of it."
Charles turned, desperate. "Then what's the main reason?"
Morvain paused, shoulders tense. "…Because I was angry."
"Angry?"
"The life I've lived isn't one I'm proud of," Morvain admitted with a strained chuckle. "And when I get angry… old habits surface. Habits I can't quite kill."
Charles stared, confused.
"He's just a child—he won't understand," Morvain muttered under his breath. Then, more clearly: "What I'm trying to say, Charles, is that there's always a better way to protect the people you love. Don't let anger decide for you."
"…Okay," Charles whispered.
Morvain sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Now go. Get some rest."
Akira's voice lingered in the silence. It seems you forgot your own advice, Morvain.Charles sat on the floor, still trying to make sense of Morvain's words.
"Come with me," Morvain said softly as he started downstairs. Charles quickly scrambled after him.
Outside, Morvain stood with his hands folded behind his back, gazing at the crimson-soaked sky. The sound of ragged breathing made him glance over—Charles was struggling to run, stumbling with each step. In a blur, Morvain caught him in his arms.
"Try not to push yourself. Your body is too frail," he said gently.
Charles, stunned, nodded. "Okay."
Morvain looked up as he carried Charles outside. "To be honest… you wouldn't even rank in the E-tier. They'd have to create a whole new tier just for you." He chuckled.
Charles tilted his head, confused.
"Ahem… never mind. You'll understand when you're older."
"Will I always be frail?" Charles asked.
Morvain smiled faintly. "No. You're just low on blood. Something in your past must have drained your reserves. But as time passes, I'll feed you blood, and little by little, you'll grow healthy and strong." He flexed his arm with a grin.
"As strong as you?"
"Stronger," Morvain said, smiling warmly. "Stronger than me—that's my wish for all of you." After a pause, he tilted his head. "Charles, look up. Tell me what you see."
Charles raised his eyes. "There's not much. Just a red sky… with tiny little lights."
Morvain's smile deepened. "Over fifty years ago, I traveled to a world called Eryndor. Most of its planets were barren, abandoned… but there was one brimming with life. They called it Earth. They barely understood the mechanics of the real world, so they made their own superstitions—the 'Big Bang theory' and so on. But what fascinated them most were those little lights, which they called stars."
"Stars? So… are these stars too?" Charles asked, pointing upward.
Morvain chuckled. "Not at all. We weren't blessed with those. What you see above us are other realms, each existing alongside our own." He paused, his voice softening. "During my journey, I met sorcerers who told me our 'Crimson Dominion' is more widely known as Sanguinastra."
"Sa… san…" Charles struggled with the word.
"It's difficult," Morvain cut in gently. "But you'll get used to it. The truth is… we vampires have been ignorant. Our elders' arrogance keeps us isolated, refusing to acknowledge other worlds. Yet every realm has its own ideologies, its own culture. I would have loved to learn from them all." He looked Charles directly in the eyes. "So if you ever get the chance… travel across the realms. Learn from them. And return to teach the rest of us. Free us from the bondage of the Elders' ignorance."
"Thi-this earth… is it better than here?" Charles asked.
Morvain glanced at him, noting the boy's distant stare into the crimson sky. "Depends on your perspective."
"P…perspective?" Charles tilted his head, his face scrunched in confusion.
"It's how you choose to see life," Morvain explained. "Nothing is completely good, and nothing is completely bad. What you focus on determines the kind of person you become."
"Hmmm… I can't lie, Morvain is smart," Akira muttered.
Charles's face only grew more puzzled.
Morvain sighed and ruffled his hair. "You're a smart kid. You'll understand in time. For now, go to bed."
"But I'm not tired," Charles shot back quickly, eyes still fixed on the sky.
Morvain stared at him for a moment, then silently went inside.
"Wait, is he just leaving him outside?!" Akira muttered.
Moments later, Morvain returned with two chairs. "Since you aren't sleepy… let's sit and talk." He set one chair down, placing Charles gently onto it before sitting beside him.
"What should we talk about?" Charles asked.
"Anything," Morvain replied, rolling up his right sleeve and resting his bare arm across his lap.
Charles blinked. "What… are you doing?"
"You need blood," Morvain said simply. "Better to start early, so by your teens you won't suddenly collapse."
"...Ok?" Charles hesitated, then took his arm. His fangs sank in quickly, crimson droplets sliding down Morvain's skin.
"That's gotta hurt," Akira muttered.
But Morvain's face was unreadable. Gradually, color returned to Charles's pale cheeks.
Releasing his bite, Charles gasped for air.
"It's not much, but I can already see the difference," Morvain noted, flexing as the wound began to heal.
Charles's eyes fluttered open—and widened. Across the sky, golden streams of light unfurled like scattered ribbons.
"W-w-what's that?" he asked, pointing upward.
"The sky?" Morvain teased.
"No! Those golden lights!"
Morvain chuckled softly. "Ah… you're glimpsing the roots of the World Tree."
"But… they don't look like roots," Charles frowned.
"That's because you can't truly perceive them yet," Morvain said.
Akira lifted his gaze to the golden light scattered across the sky.
"Am I really seeing this… or is it just part of Charles' memory?" he muttered.
When he lowered his head, his breath caught — Morvain and Charles were frozen, unmoving, as though time itself had stopped.
"What the hell…?" Akira whispered, stepping back cautiously.
Then the world lurched. Everything around him began to move in fast-forward — people coming and going, the orphanage growing larger, children laughing and then disappearing, faces aging and changing. The blur slowed, and with wide eyes Akira realized what he had witnessed: children being adopted, Charles maturing into his teens, Morvain's hair graying, countless moments of joy, celebration, and grief. First love, first rejection, lives passing in fragments.
"I understand what's happened in the time I couldn't see… but this feeling…" Akira thought, his chest tightening. "I don't want to witness what comes next."
In the blink of an eye, he was back inside the orphanage. Children ran straight through him, their laughter echoing like ghosts. A teenage Charles and Diana were setting the table while Morvain sat on the couch, coffee in hand.
"Haa… these children's morning chatter never gets old," Morvain said, taking a sip.
One child nearly bumped into Charles.
"Hey, watch it!" Charles snapped, ignored as the boy kept running. Scowling, Charles dropped the plates and gave chase.
"I can't believe you're getting worked up over a child's antics," Diana commented dryly.
Charles scooped the boy up, smirking. "Stop acting like you're above it. I know you want to play too."
"One of us has to be the adult. We can't all be burdens to Mr. Morvain," Diana retorted.
"But he's right," Morvain chimed in warmly, "if you act like an adult too soon, you'll regret it when you finally become one. Enjoy your childhood."
"You heard him," Charles added with a snicker.
Diana inhaled sharply, narrowing her eyes as she rolled up her sleeves, marching toward Charles with mock menace.
Then—
BOOOOM.
The air thickened, crushing the room beneath its weight. The youngest children collapsed instantly. Charles and Diana fell to their knees, faces pale and petrified. Morvain's eyes widened; he struggled to rise
Then, silence. The pressure vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Charles and Diana gasping desperately for air.
"What… what was that?" Charles stammered.
A voice, smooth and venomous, slithered from outside:
"Ohhh, Morvain… are you in there?"
The sharp crack of ceramic shattering rang out as Morvain dropped his cup, trembling, eyes wide in horror.
"I-It can't be…" he muttered.