The mansion's hall felt larger than any human logic should allow.
Its high ceiling echoed every breath Lucy took, every snarl of the beast before her.
Weak candle flames flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows — like specters ready to strike.
Lucy gripped Dracslayer tightly.
The blade caught the candlelight, slicing through the darkness as if it were born from it.
"Showtime," she murmured—her tone cold, sarcastic, and full of threat.
The wolf lunged forward with monstrous speed, overturning a table as its claws tore through the air.
Lucy spun backward, sliding across the floor, bracing on one knee — then swung her sword in a fluid, horizontal arc.
Steel flashed. The edge grazed the creature's fur, cutting loose strands and drawing dark blood that stained the wooden floor.
The wolf laughed — a sound between man and beast.
"Did you think it'd be that easy?"
Lucy rolled aside, kicking at its legs to keep distance. Her left hand drew her pistol, firing twice.
Each bullet pierced its shoulder, making the beast roar in pain — but not enough to stop it. It was too fast, too graceful. Both human and vampiric in movement.
"You're playing with fire, rich mutt," Lucy spat, leaping over a pile of broken chairs and landing behind the creature.
It charged again, but Lucy spun Dracslayer vertically, severing the claw that reached for her.
The clash of metal and bone cracked like thunder. Then, with a precise flick of her wrist, she swung again — decapitating the creature cleanly.
The silver-red blade carved through its neck with deadly grace.
The body hit the ground with a dull thud. Lucy's breathing was heavy, but celebration was a luxury she couldn't afford.
She dashed toward Billy, seeing the boy staggering — his eyes blackening, skin twisting into a sickly, demonic hue.
The corruption was spreading fast.
"No..." Lucy whispered, running to him.
"Not today… not now!"
She pressed her hand against his chest, channeling the supernatural force that flowed between her human and vampiric bloodlines, trying to suppress the dark energy turning him into a monster.
The boy screamed, writhing, but Lucy didn't stop. Every muscle burned, every breath tore at her insides.
Then, with a final surge of power, she forced the darkness out.
Color returned to Billy's skin — briefly.
And then… he went still.
His body collapsed in her arms, motionless. Slowly, he turned to ash, scattering across the floor with the scent of burnt flesh.
Lucy closed her eyes. Tears stung.
"Billy... I'm sorry," she whispered.
"This is all my fault…"
She raised her sword slowly, as if she could stab her guilt away.
Outside the mansion, Harrison — who'd been waiting near the gate — felt a sudden chill sweep through the air.
He turned and froze.
A woman was walking toward him.
Short, silver hair.
Eyes gleaming like shards of ice.
A silver coat with tribal wolf markings that shimmered in the moonlight.
She looked like something out of an elegant nightmare — every step confident, every movement deliberate. When Harrison met her gaze, she smiled — tilting her head with a mix of defiance and grace.
"Lucy?" Harrison stammered, both confused and terrified.
But in a flash of silver light — she vanished.
Gone, leaving Harrison trembling and cold, with the dreadful certainty that something familiar and dangerous had just passed by.
Inside, Lucy continued through the mansion's corridors, her footsteps echoing off the walls. The weight of guilt pressed down hard on her shoulders.
And then… something shifted.
A presence brushed against her — cold, silent, familiar. Her instincts screamed. She froze, scanning the shadows.
For a heartbeat, she believed.
"...Nyra?" she whispered, her voice breaking with hope and fear.
A figure crossed the corridor ahead — swift, graceful. Lucy blinked — and it was gone.
But the feeling lingered.
That impossible familiarity.
Her heart pounded.
Her blood froze.
Lucy gripped Dracslayer tighter. The hallway felt smaller, closing in. Her mind was far from the mansion now caught between guilt, fury, and the ghost of a sister she had buried long ago.
Outside, the night over Salt Blake hung heavy.
The cold air burned in her lungs.
When she saw Harrison by the gate, she forced herself to stand tall, wiping the dried blood from her chin.
"Finally," he sighed in relief, before frowning.
"But… how did you do that?"
Lucy blinked, confused.
"Do what?"
"You… you just walked out of there a few minutes ago," Harrison said, eyes wide.
"But your hair, it was silver. I swear, Lucy,
I saw—"
Lucy froze. Her pulse spiked.
"That wasn't me," she said flatly.
"Whoever you saw… it was someone else."
Harrison saw the shift in her eyes—pain masked as emptiness.
"And the boy? Billy…?"
Lucy glanced down. Ash still covered the ground where he had fallen.
"He died in my arms," she murmured, voice trembling for the first time that night.
"I couldn't save him…"
Harrison said nothing. He knew Lucy too well—knew how every lost life carved another scar in her heart.
"Harrison…" she said quietly.
"Who exactly hired us for this?"
He hesitated.
"A wealthy family from Salt Blake. I got a letter… payment in advance. It all happened too fast."
Lucy narrowed her eyes. Coincidence? Impossible.
In Salt Blake, nothing ever happened by chance.
"It stinks of a setup," she growled.
"I'll find out who's behind this."
Before Harrison could protest, Lucy turned back toward the mansion.
Deep within the mansion, the library stood like a temple to forbidden knowledge.
Tall, chained books lined the walls, dust and the scent of old magic filling the air.
A woman with short silver hair ran her fingers across the spines with predatory calm.
Her cold eyes searched with surgical precision—until they stopped on a black tome marked by a scarlet eye crossed with fangs.
She pulled it free.
At that exact moment, a deep, raspy voice echoed through the shadows.
"Have you found it?"
She didn't turn.
"Yes."
A man emerged from the darkness, draped in black robes, face scarred, eyes glowing with sickly hunger.
"That's the one about the Twilight Eye Castle, isn't it?" he asked.
"The very one," she replied.
He smiled.
"Excellent, Nyra."
The young woman turned her face slightly, revealing the cold, tyrannical determination beneath her beauty.
"The power of Ulisses lies within that castle," she declared.
"And I will awaken it."
"And that power will be yours," the man,Cletus, answered with a crooked grin.
"I'll help you."
He then revealed the key to the ritual:
"To open the portal, we'll need to invoke the Ten Calamities, use the blood of Ulisses…"
"And both halves of the Convergent Amulet," Nyra finished.
"I already have the blood—and one half of the amulet."
She lifted the necklace she had worn since childhood.
A fragment glowed faintly, a blue ember in the dark.
"The other half… belongs to Lucy," she said, her voice bitter but tinged with anticipation.
"I can feel her. I saw her. She's alive."
Cletus raised an eyebrow, satisfied.
"Then take it. Make your choice, Nyra. Don't delay."
And with that, he vanished, swallowed by the shadows.
Nyra closed her eyes, breathing in the weight of destiny. Then, without hesitation, she turned to follow it.
Lucy moved through the mansion's remaining halls, her senses sharp.
Every sound felt amplified, every shadow like a whisper from the past.
"Who's there!? Show yourself!" she roared.
And then… she appeared.
Like a memory made flesh.
Nyra.
Silver hair. Eyes as cold as frozen storms.
Black lipstick. A belt adorned with a small wolf emblem. The smile of a girl who had learned to hide a monster behind it.
"It's been a long time… little sister," she said, almost tenderly.
Lucy froze. Her sword nearly slipped from her hand.
"N–Nyra... no... you... you died!"
"Died?" Nyra laughed coldly.
"Seems you're still terrible at facing reality."
Lucy stepped closer, eyes watering.
"I looked for you for years! I buried you in my soul! Why didn't you come back!?"
Nyra turned away, impatient.
"Emotions are a waste of time. I have greater things to do."
Lucy's heart sank as realization struck.
"You knew about the wolf? About the boy!?"
"Of course," Nyra replied, her tone icy.
"All of it was meant to bring you here. And it worked."
Lucy's blood boiled.
"You let a child die… for this!?"
Nyra took a confident step forward, eyes burning with ambition.
"The boy was doomed already. I merely hastened the inevitable.
The power of Ulisses is our legacy, Lucy. You should be grateful I'm offering it to both of us."
"I don't care about power! And I'll never let you use it!" Lucy snarled.
Nyra sighed, as though bored.
"Then let's see if you can stop me."
Lucy's attack came fast—Nyra dodged effortlessly, moving like a blade of wind.
Lucy struck again, Nyra sidestepped.
Lucy fired her pistol, Nyra caught it between two fingers and tossed it away.
With a swift kick of her sword's sheath, Nyra sent Lucy crashing into the wall.
"You're still weak, sister," Nyra said coldly.
"Too human."
Lucy spat blood but rose again, trembling with rage and sorrow.
Nyra lifted her blade, and behind her, a blue portal tore open, pulsating like a wound in space itself.
"If you're not with me… you're against me."
"I'll stop you, Nyra," Lucy whispered.
"No matter what it takes."
Nyra smiled — a beautiful, tragic, arrogant smile.
"We'll see..." she stared at the pendant around her sister's neck and then sighed.
"I'll still convince you the true power can conquer all. See you soon, Lucy."
She slashed her sword through the air — the portal snapped shut behind her like the slam of an infernal door.
Lucy stood there, shaking. Relief, shock, love, hate — all colliding.
She fired one last bullet through the air, but it hit only the empty void.
Silence followed.
And in that silence, Lucy dropped to her knees. The reunion she'd dreamed of had become her worst nightmare.
Outside, she stumbled through the mansion doors. Harrison ran to her.
"Lucy! What the hell happened!?"
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
"My sister… she's alive."
"That's… good, isn't it?"
Lucy looked up at the moon.
"Not everything that comes back from the dead… comes back right."
Harrison said nothing. The cold wind carried their silence.
"Take me home," Lucy finally whispered.
"Please."
And together, they walked away from the darkness of the mansion —
though the real darkness was already following Lucy from within.