Deep within the lower New World, a gothic castle towered over a vast and eerie cityscape. Its looming cathedrals loomed over the stormy skies as the crimson thunder rumbled in the background.
Once again, the True Bloods of the Clan were summoned by the Vampire Progenitor. All ten of them have been called for a meeting.
In the silent, muted halls of the gothic castle, the highest of vampires kneeled before their one and only master. They awaited his voice and commands, ready for anything.
Lounging on the iron throne was a black-armored man whose face was as pale as snow white. He was extremely handsome, his crimson eyes gleaming with unique sharpness.
The Vampire Progenitor gazed upon his children, his demeanor pervaded with indifference, before finally speaking to them.
"I believe all of you are already aware of why I have summoned you to my castle." The air was tense, each word that escaped his lips echoing throughout the gothic halls.
