The castle stood before them, an ominous shadow against the bloody red sky. The jagged, black stone walls rose like a graveyard of giants, reaching toward the heavens with cruel, clawed fingers. It looked ancient, forgotten by time but not by those who sought its power. The entrance was a maw of darkness, gaping open as if it hungered for the blood of those foolish enough to enter. Zariya stood at the threshold, her black boots sinking into the sand, her muscles tense with anticipation. Behind her, the survivors of the journey--Basil, Saber, Ban, and a few others--were silent, all feeling the weight of the moment. They had lost many along the way, bodies swallowed by the desert or torn apart by the horrors they had faced. Only the strong remained, and even they wore the exhaustion of the trek like a second skin.

But this was what they had come for. The Blood Chalice, a relic of long lost power, lay somewhere deep within the castle’s belly. Zariya could feel it, like a whisper just beyond her reach, pulling her forward, promising her the strength she had sought for so long. It wasn’t just about power anymore it was about destiny, legacy, and claiming what was rightfully hers. Her golden eyes gleamed, reflecting the dying light of the sun, and without a word, she stepped into the darkness.

The air inside the castle was cold, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were alive and watching. Each step echoed through the cavernous halls, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence. Zariya’s senses were on high alert, every shadow a potential threat, every creak in the stone an omen of danger. They moved quickly but carefully, the group’s formation tight and practiced. Ban trotted beside Zariya, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with an edge of paranoia, while Basil, always calm, flanked her right, his amber eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Saber, on the other hand, had a barely restrained smirk on her lips, her bloodlust simmering beneath the surface. She was eager to kill, eager to fight. Zariya could feel it.

It wasn’t long before the traps started.

The first one was sudden. The floor beneath them gave no warning, no creak or shift of stone. Just a sudden, deadly collapse. A vampire from the rear let out a strangled scream as he plummeted into a pit of spikes below, his body impaled mid air before he even had a chance to react. The spikes ripped through flesh and bone with a grotesque squelch, and blood sprayed up like a crimson fountain, splattering the stone floor around them. Zariya barely blinked. She had expected this. The others, however, jerked back, wide-eyed and tense, their steps hesitant as they navigated around the trap. The pit yawned before them like an open mouth waiting to swallow its next victim. Nerves frayed, eyes darting to every dark corner, every crack in the stone.

“Keep moving,” Zariya ordered coldly, her voice booming through the tension like a war drum. Her eyes didn’t leave the path ahead, steady and unyielding. They were already here, and it would be foolish to turn back when they were so close to what Zariya sought.

Ban grunted from beside her, flicking his sunglasses down slightly to peer over the top, his sharp gaze scanning for any more tricks the castle might spring on them. “This place is a deathtrap,” he muttered, the scar over his eye twitching as if in irritation. “You sure this is worth it?”

Zariya shot him a look--one that said, “You know better than to ask.” Ban grinned but said nothing more, his usual bravado tempered by the undeniable danger around them. Contrary to what he said, the exceed enjoyed it. They pressed on, the atmosphere growing heavier with each step, thick with the stench of old death and something else, something ancient and dark, a presence lurking just out of sight.

The floor groaned ominously beneath their feet. Saber, walking ahead with her usual swagger, suddenly stiffened. “Something’s coming,” she hissed, her golden eyes narrowing as her heightened senses caught something the others hadn’t yet noticed.

Before anyone could react, sharp blades as thin as razors swung out from the walls on either side, slicing through the air with a high-pitched whistle. They were nearly invisible, shimmering in the dim light like ghostly wraiths and moved too fast to avoid completely. One of the werewolves who had still been recovering from the earlier pit trap, wasn’t quick enough. The blade sliced clean through his arm, severing it from his body with a sickening crunch of bone. He howled in pain, clutching at the bloody stump where his arm had been.

Saber growled, her muscles tensing as she fought the instinct to attack. “Dammit!” she snarled, her voice dripping with frustration. “We’re sitting ducks here.”

Basil’s face was unreadable, though Zariya could see the subtle tightening of his jaw as he watched his fellow werewolf stagger, blood pooling at his feet. She knew what he was thinking. This wasn’t their fight, it was vampire business, and yet here they were, dying for it. But Basil said nothing, his loyalty to Zariya overriding any resentment he might have felt.

“We’ll mourn later,” Zariya said, her voice cutting through the moment. “Right now, we survive.”

Basil nodded, his eyes flicking away from his injured comrade, but his frustration was palpable. Meanwhile, Ban swore under his breath as he deftly avoided another swing of the blades, his furred tail twitching in irritation. “I swear, Z... Next time, we bring a damn map.”

Zariya ignored him, her eyes locked ahead as they continued. The air was filled with the metallic tang of blood and the sound of ragged breathing. The floor beneath them creaked ominously again, and without warning, the ground split open in a jagged line, ripping through the center of the group. Two more vampires, caught off guard, disappeared into the darkness below, their screams echoing before being abruptly silenced by a distant, bone-crunching thud.

“Shit!” Ban cursed, pulling back just in time as the crack spread further, splitting the ground like a wound. “How many more of these damn things are there?”

“We’re almost through,” Zariya said, though even she could feel the tension creeping up her spine. "I can feel it." She could sense the danger in the air, could feel the traps waiting just ahead like predators lying in wait. But she couldn’t stop now. Not when they were this close. They moved more carefully now, each step deliberate and slow. The walls seemed to close in around them, the air growing colder despite the heat that lingered from the desert outside.

Suddenly, without warning, the ceiling above them groaned, and with a roar, a torrent of fire spewed from above, scorching the ground below with an unbearable heat. The flames were a hellish orange, licking at the stone floor like hungry tongues. One vampire was too slow. The fire engulfed her before she could react, her scream piercing the air as her skin blistered and peeled away like paper. The stench of burning flesh filled the room, thick and nauseating. The others recoiled, though there was no time to mourn her.

Saber growled again, this time more viciously, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I’m gonna tear this place apart,” she spat, her eyes flashing with fury. “I don’t care if it’s made of stone. I’ll rip it down.”

“Focus,” Zariya snapped, though there was a gleam of approval in her eyes at Saber’s fiery determination. “There will be time for destruction later.”

Basil, his fur matted with sweat, wiped his brow and looked to Zariya. “This place is a tomb,” he muttered under his breath.

“Only the strong survive here,” Zariya said coldly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Ban, walking just behind, snorted. “Hell of a motivational speech, boss.”

They continued onward, though every step felt heavier, the weight of their losses dragging behind them like invisible chains. The traps grew more intricate, more deadly. At one point, a hidden mechanism triggered a wave of poison-tipped darts, one striking a daemon in the neck. He gurgled as the venom took hold, his eyes rolling back in his head before collapsing into a heap.

Zariya stepped over his body without a word. The Chalice was near, and nothing--not traps, not monsters, not death--would stop her now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the heart of the castle. The room was dark, the air thick and oppressive. At its center, illuminated by the faintest of light, was the Chalice. It sat on a stone pedestal, the liquid inside it dark and shimmering with an otherworldly gleam. Zariya’s eyes locked onto it, her pulse quickening. This was it. The source of power that had eluded so many for centuries. And now, it was hers.

She stepped forward, her movements slow, deliberate. The others held their breath, watching as she reached for the Chalice with steady hands. As her fingers curled around the cold metal, she felt a surge of energy--violent, wild, uncontrollable--course through her veins. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She raised the Chalice to her lips, the liquid inside thick and warm as it slid down her throat. The liquid inside the Chalice was thick, almost syrupy, and it slid down her throat like molten darkness. The taste was bitter, metallic, like blood and death and something far older than she could name. For a moment, she felt nothing. And then, the power hit her.

It was like being struck by lightning. Every nerve in her body ignited, her blood boiling beneath her skin. She gasped, her hands tightening around the Chalice as the power surged through her veins, consuming her. Her muscles tensed, her vision blurred, and for a split second, she thought she might explode from the sheer force of it. Power exploded through her, every nerve in her body alight with the force of it. Her muscles trembled, her vision blurred. She could feel her strength multiplying, her senses sharpening. Her eyes flickered, the veins turning black for a moment, as if the darkness itself had seeped into her soul.

But then… she controlled it. She owned it.

Her eyes snapped open, and everything was sharp. Too sharp. The dark room, the shadows in the corners, the faint flicker of candlelight. it was all too real, too vivid. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, each beat a violent thrum of power. Her body hummed with it, every muscle coiled with strength, every breath she took filled with the raw essence of the Chalice.

And then she saw her reflection, faint in the surface of the Chalice. Her eyes, golden, fierce, had changed. For just a moment, the veins around them had turned black, pulsing with dark energy, spiderwebbing out from her irises like cracks in glass. She blinked, and it was gone. But the power remained, surging through her like a living thing.

Around her, the other vampires had fallen to their knees. They didn’t move. They didn’t speak. They simply bowed, their heads lowered in reverence, in fear. Even Saber, always so proud, so eager to challenge, was on her knees, her eyes wide, trembling slightly as she gazed up at Zariya with a feeling she could not understand.

Zariya stood above them, the Chalice still in her hand, her lips curled into a faint smile. She could feel it now, the power coursing through her veins, the strength that would allow her to do anything. To be anything.

The blood of an Original vampire, the power of the Childer… it was hers.

She looked down at the vampires kneeling before her and felt something stir deep within her. It wasn’t pity, or even pride. It was something far darker, far more intoxicating.

They bowed because they had to. Their bodies had betrayed them, their blood forcing them to bend to the will of the one from which it came and in that moment, they knew.

Zariya was no longer their equal.

She was above.

And nothing would ever be the same again.