A few days earlier…
Locki stood beneath a sky filled with shifting stars, facing Aurora. They had moved to the Earth of another universe. The wind tugged at his coat, but he remained still.
> "I can't stand by and watch them suffer anymore," he said, voice tight. "Please… bring them back. Carter's wife. Ron's wife. His daughters. He never even met his second-born."
Aurora lowered her eyes, sorrow in her expression.
> "I can't interfere," she replied. "And even if I did… something worse would come. Not just for them—for all of Hero Town."
She raised her hand. A glowing screen shimmered to life in her palm.
> "You have other matters to face. Now, look."
The screen flickered to a cemetery in the east. A cloaked woman knelt before a stone coffin, after the digging, she started whispering in an ancient tongue. Her eyes were locked in fevered focus.
Locki watched as she cut her hand, letting her blood drip onto the coffin's lid. Energy shimmered around her—ghostly and translucent.
Then, she opened the coffin.
Inside lay a man.
She poured her blood into the translucent energy and fed it into his chest. The moment it touched him, the man's eyes snapped open. His hand lunged, grabbing her throat, and dragged her into the coffin with a crushing grip. The lid slammed shut.
The screen flickered black.
> "She's the same woman Carter encountered," Aurora said quietly. "She awakened him. The king Dracula has returned after a many years."
---
Later that week…
The same woman was seen wandering the cemetery, pale and silent. She approached a guard—and without hesitation, snapped his neck, then turned him. Together, they began targeting stragglers near the graveyard, building their numbers slowly. Then they caught the guy, who's video was discussed by Ron and Carter.
Meeting Carter and Ron at the alley and railway station had been their first step into the heart of the city.
---
Present day…
Locki sat beside Carter's bed in the hospital. Carter listened as Locki recounted everything—Aurora, the ritual, the vampires' rise.
After finishing, Locki pulled out his phone and called Ron.
> "I'm fine," Ron answered, voice low. "Barely. But I'm okay."
Later, when Carter had recovered enough to move, he compiled everything—Locki's intel, Ron's encounter, and the vampire sightings—and sent it all to one man:
Bruce.
And Bruce, reading the report in silence, closed the file.
> "I'm going in myself."
---
Bruce stood atop an abandoned building overlooking the eastern cemetery, cloaked in black from head to toe. His face was hidden beneath a tactical mask, and only his eyes tracked the scene below through a long-range scope.
A bat hung from the gnarled tree beside a crypt—the same grave site from Locki's vision. Beneath it, a rusted door marked the entrance to the vampire's lair.
> "There you are," Bruce whispered.
He fired his grappling gun and landed silently on a nearby coffin. But just as he adjusted his stance, he heard boots—several pairs—crunching through the gravel.
He turned.
Military soldiers. Armed. Dozens.
> "Freeze!"
They opened fire.
Bruce dove behind a stone coffin as bullets pinged off the marble. They didn't recognize him—his face covered, his presence mistaken for an intruder. He dashed between gravestones, evading them skillfully.
But he wasn't alone.
Overhead, the bat detached from the tree and began following him.
---
Bruce darted into a half-built construction site. Shadows and scaffolding offered cover, but something felt wrong.
The gunfire had stopped.
Too suddenly.
> "Why did they stop?"
He peeked over a beam—and then heard a voice behind him.
> "So… here you are. What were you doing at my cemetery?"
Bruce turned. A man stepped forward from the shadows, elegant and terrifying. The same Dracula who'd been watching Ron and Carter. The air chilled.
Bruce said nothing. He turned and sprinted deeper into the site.
But in a blink—bam!
He collided head-first into Dracula, who had appeared instantly in front of him.
Dracula's eyes glowed crimson.
> "You'll be delicious."
Bruce swung, but he was outmatched. Despite being a trained combatant, he was thrown like a ragdoll.
Dracula flicked his forehead—Bruce flew, crashing through the roof of an adjacent building.
The beating continued.
> "Why don't you work under me?" Dracula offered, his smile wide and teeth sharp.
> "Never," Bruce spat.
Just as Dracula bared his fangs—the first rays of sunlight broke across the rooftop.
Dracula hissed, backing into the shadows.
> "Next time, you won't be so lucky…"
He vanished into the darkness.
---
The Next Morning…
Every news channel lit up with one image: a masked man in black, caught on camera in the graveyard. The media branded him the prime suspect behind the mysterious disappearances.
Bruce, barely conscious, was retrieved by his loyal servant and rushed to a private hospital.
Later that day, his phone rang.
> "You're famous overnight," Carter said, half-laughing.
Bruce chuckled weakly.
> "Yeah… not quite the plan."
He told Carter everything.
---
That evening, Carter met with Ron and Locki at a hotel. Tension buzzed in the air.
After hearing the full report, Ron stood, eyes sharp.
> "Then maybe it's time…"
He cracked his knuckles.
> "…we pay that bastard a visit."