The Handler, a grim, compact man named Kellan, didn't bother with pleasantries. He shoved a specialized rifle into Acheron's hands and clipped a holster containing a silver-coated utility knife to his belt.
"Weapon is suppressed. Ammunition is specialized Sedative Gel rounds," Kellan barked, his voice dry and demanding. "Dr. Caine wants a live specimen for harvest. You will retrieve the subject intact. No unauthorized kills. No excess damage. This is a retrieval, not a purge."
Acheron's new senses took in everything: the metallic scent of the silver knife, the specific weight of the rifle, and the faint, sweet smell of the tranquilizer darts. His eyes scanned the System interface hovering in his peripheral vision, which had just updated.
begin{CURRENT OBJECTIVE}
{PURIFICATION PROTOCOL 7: NEUTRALIZE AND RETRIEVE TARGET.}
{TARGET LOCATION} {OLD MT. VISTA HOSPITAL (SOUTH WING)}
{TARGET STATUS} {FLEDGLING VAMPIRE (STRAIN: CLEAN)}end.
Strain: Clean. The word snagged Acheron's attention. Untainted by the Vigil's experimental blood packs. A thought a purely vampiric impulse flared in his mind: This is potential power.
The mission briefing was terse. The target was a teenager, turned just hours ago, who had fled their awakening and holed up in the abandoned south wing of an old public hospital. The Vigil needed the subject for its pure bloodline before the vampire's body started adapting to fight the infection.
"Injection point is critical," Kellan emphasized, pointing to a diagram of the human neck. "Miss the carotid, and the subject might suffer catastrophic vascular failure. Caine needs the specimen viable."
They reached the exterior of the hospital. The building was a hulking, dark structure, silent save for the wind whistling through broken windows.
"Go," Kellan ordered, settling in with a comms rig. "I'll monitor your vitals. Deviation from protocol results in immediate System Lock and corrective measures."
Acheron entered the dark hospital. The Bloodthirst Debuff made his muscles ache and his thoughts sluggish, but his new senses were terrifyingly acute. He could hear the faint, uneven heartbeat of the target three floors up and the dry, coppery scent of the single drop of blood the fledgling vampire had spilled earlier.
He moved silently, his steps instinctively avoiding the cracked linoleum that would betray him. The System was a cold, constant voice, but his own, new vampiric instincts were a frantic, hungry counter-point.
I need a memory. I need power.
He reached the surgical ward. The room was cold, scattered with dusty, ancient instruments. The young vampire was huddled behind a counter, shaking, terrified, and obviously in pain.
"Please," the fledgling whimpered, eyes wide and glowing with the same unnaturally sharp light that Acheron saw when he looked in a mirror. "Don't hurt me."
Acheron raised the rifle. The target was exactly where the System predicted. The shot was simple. It would earn him a point of compliance and a ration of controlled, diluted blood.
Do it, Kellan voice hissed in his ear through a hidden comm. Neutralize and retrieve.
Acheron lowered the rifle a fraction of an inch, aiming not for the neck, but for the shoulder, ensuring a glancing, non-fatal wound that would draw blood but not incapacitate. He fired.
The Sedative Gel round hit the wall instead.
[WARNING: ACCURACY DEVIATION. CORRUPTION DEBT ACCRUAL: 1%]
The warning flashed in red, followed by a spike of intense nausea, a minor neurological shock from the System's leash.
The System saw the deviation. But it didn't lock him out. The Glitch was small, but it was there.
The fledgling, startled, scrambled back, knocking over a tray of rusted surgical tools. One of the tools—a scalpel—skittered across the floor and landed near Acheron's boot. A small cut, an insignificant scratch from the razor edge, appeared on his wrist.
A single, clean bead of his own blood welled up.
The Bloodthirst immediately overwhelmed him. His control snapped. The System's warnings became a meaningless roar. He was no longer Acheron; he was just a monster that needed to feed.
He lunged for the fledgling, not with the intention to kill, but with a sudden, overwhelming urge to consume the pure stain. The fledgling shrieked, a high, desperate sound. Acheron pressed him to the ground, teeth bared.
He didn't bite the neck. He bit the forearm, a controlled, savage puncture.
The blood was hot, raw, and vibrant unlike the cold, sanitized chemical packs the Vigil supplied. A jolt of pure energy, clean and untainted, flooded his entire being.
begin{array}{SANGUINE FEAST: INITIATED}
{TARGET: FLEDGLING VAMPIRE} {EQUILIBRIUM SHIFT}
{VAMPIRE +1\%}
{BLOODTHIRST DEBUFF}{CLEARED (DURATION 6 HOURS)} {SKILL INHERITANCE}
{MEMORIES ACQUIRED. PROCESSING…} end.
As the raw power stabilized, the System—which could not stop the Feed, only punish it—slammed him with the cost. The air was suddenly thick, painful.
[CORRUPTION DEBT ACCRUAL: 15% (CRITICAL SPIKE)]
[IDENTITY PURGE INITIATED. COMMENCE MEMORY FRAGMENT DELETION.]
The memory of the young woman—the one who broke his heart, the reason he needed that job—flared into his mind's eye, brilliant and painful, a final goodbye.
[MEMORY FRAGMENT 001. DELETED.]
The image vanished, leaving behind a cold, desolate vacuum. He didn't just forget her face; he forgot the emotion of her betrayal. A piece of his soul was gone.
But in the wake of the purge, the Skill Inheritance finished processing. A new notification flashed.
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: CELERITY (LVL 1). GRANTS MINOR BOOST TO SPEED AND REFLEXES.]
Acheron let go of the trembling fledgling. The loss of the memory brought tears to his eyes, but the gain in power was intoxicating. He had chosen the power, and the machine had enforced the cost. He was no longer just dealing with physical pain; he was dealing with the theft of his soul.
Now, what to do with the target?
The comms unit clipped to his collar erupted with a furious crackle—the voice of his Handler, Kellan.
"Acheron! What was that spike? Your heart rate just bottomed out, and your system vitals were completely erratic! You had one job: sedate and retrieve! Your energy signature is spiking—did you discharge the sedative at a non-lethal location?"
Kellan's voice was laced with pure, professional terror. The System's leash was not supposed to behave this way.
Acheron, fueled by the rush of the untainted blood and the terrifying, cold vacuum where his memory used to be, now had a mind clear enough to lie. He instinctively adopted the cold, efficient tone the Vigil had trained into him.
"Target resisted immobilization," Acheron rasped, his voice raw but controlled. "Attempted to use sharp instrument. Applied necessary force. Target is neutralized."
He glanced at the trembling fledgling, who was now weeping, curled into a fetal position. The fledgling was weak, confused, and still Clean Strain—a liability if the Vigil found him alive, but also an asset if Acheron could use him to cover his tracks.
If I leave him here, they retrieve him and analyze his blood. They will know I fed.
If I kill him outright, Kellan will demand a full analysis of the body and sedative discharge.
Acheron's eyes fell on the scattered surgical tools. The Skill Inheritance from the fledgling's blood—Celerity (Lvl 1)—was a passive boost to speed, but the residual information contained a fleeting, desperate memory of the hospital layout.
He grabbed the small, silver-coated utility knife from his belt—the one Kellan had called a tool. He made a shallow, controlled slash across the fledgling's arm, widening the initial wound. The smell of blood intensified.
"Sedative rounds failed to fully incapacitate," Acheron reported, forcing the lie. "Target is thrashing. Applying protocol for irreversible contamination."
He didn't kill the target. He opened the floodgates.
Acheron seized a rusty, blood-stained bone saw from the floor and quickly rubbed it against the weeping wound. The rusty contaminants instantly rushed into the target's bloodstream.
[TARGET STATUS: CONTAMINATED. IRREVERSIBLE INFECTION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.]
Kellan's voice turned from panic to cold resignation. "Contaminated? Damn it. Dr. Caine is going to have my head. Fine, Acheron. You know the contamination protocol. Do not bring the specimen back. You are authorized for immediate, total purge. Finish the job."
Acheron knew the drill: Purge meant incineration or chemical destruction. But he had just provided a perfect cover story: the target, already a fledgling, was now irreversibly contaminated by tetanus or sepsis, making the specimen worthless for study.
He didn't incinerate the body. Instead, he shoved the terrified, bleeding fledgling into a massive, antique biological waste disposal chute. The chute led straight to the hospital's sub-basement incinerator. A moment later, he heard a heavy clang and the grinding sound of the chute being activated.
Target neutralized by incineration. The System would confirm the incinerator's heat signature.
He grabbed the spent casing of the sedative round, tossed it down the chute, and then began his retreat, moving with the preternatural speed and silence provided by his stolen skill, Celerity (Lvl 1).
He had failed the retrieval mission, but he had successfully lied to the Vigil, gained a power boost, and earned his first taste of freedom a memory fragment paid for in eternal silence.