Scene — Kon Names His Next Prey
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Kon stands under the fractured sky of the ruined Earth dimension — the wind stirs his black coat. Victor and Remji stand to his flanks — silent shadows.
He lifts his gloved hand slightly — beckons Remji forward without a word.
Remji steps up, head bowed, carefully unwraps a long, obsidian-black blade — its edge hums with a faint, hungry crimson mist.
Kon runs his fingers along the flat of the blade — eyes half-closed, a ghost of a smile cuts across his face.
Kon (softly, to himself, amused):
> "Perfect… that's the one I needed."
He glances up — sharp eyes gleaming like cold coals.
Kon (low, calm):
> "Do you know what I'll do with this, Remji?"
Remji says nothing — just lowers his head further.
Kon's smile widens — teeth barely showing.
Kon (whispers, like a promise):
> "I'm killing the Blood Queen herself — Elizabeth Báthory."
A faint shiver passes through the air — like the world itself flinches at that name.
Victor tilts his head — eyes glinting.
Victor (flat, loyal):
> "As you wish, my lord."
Remji quietly steps back — both stand in silent formation behind him.
Kon lifts the blade — rests it on his shoulder — stares out at the torn sky.
He speaks like he's telling the wind a secret.
Kon (low, cruel smile):
> "One of the strongest blood users… same power as mine… let's see whose blood sings louder."
He turns slightly — cloak flicks in the wind — the scarlet mist of the blade curls like a living thing.
He walks forward — every step echoing on the stone.
No fear. No hesitation. Just a promise: blood will spill.
Scene — Kon Crosses Paths With Abbas' Army
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The dusk air over the rough dirt road hums with tension — Kon rides at the head of a line of black horses. Behind him: Victor, Remji, and Fuko — silent, cloaked shapes. Their horses make no noise but the crunch of hooves.
Ahead, a banner snaps — an army of Abbas warriors blocks the path. Spears glint under the half-moon.
Their leader — a broad-shouldered man in flowing robes and chainmail — rides forward, face half-hidden by a desert scarf.
Abbas (stern, English-Arabic accent):
> "Stop. Who rides this path? Are you enemies?"
Kon lifts his head — slow smile, eyes like slits of cold flame.
Kon (low, steady):
> "As-salamu alaykum, warrior."
Abbas shifts — surprised — then answers.
Abbas:
> "Wa alaykumu as-salam. Then speak — why are you here, stranger?"
Kon leans forward on his horse, voice calm as frost.
Kon:
> "I am here for… important work, Lord Abbas. I carry no blade for you or yours — unless you force my hand."
Abbas narrows his eyes.
Abbas:
> "And what proof do I have you won't harm my men? Words mean little in blood-soaked lands."
Behind Abbas, a restless young soldier snaps — he shouts and charges, blade up.
In a blink, Kon turns his gaze — just a stare — and the soldier's body crumbles into gray dust, armor clattering empty to the dirt.
The line of Abbas soldiers flinches back in silence. Kon's horse doesn't even stir — he looks at Abbas coldly.
Kon (voice like ice):
> "Attack me — or any servant of mine — and I will turn you all to dust. No mercy. No hesitation."
Abbas lowers his eyes — raises a hand to halt his men.
A bead of sweat rolls down his temple.
Abbas (low, respectful):
> "My apologies… Lord Kon, I may assume. We do not seek your wrath."
Kon nods once — his horse snorts.
Kon (quiet smile):
> "Then we have no quarrel, Lord Abbas. Decide."
Abbas looks back at his men — then points down the open path.
Abbas:
> "Ride on. But beware — the Blood Queen holds these lands. She has no mercy for trespassers."
Kon's smile widens, teeth white in the shadows.
Kon (soft laugh):
> "Mercy? Not my concern. Playing fair — that's the real game, isn't it?"
He rides forward — Victor, Remji, Fuko fall in behind — hooves thundering as the Abbas army parts in silent awe.
---
SCENE: The Fall of the Blood Queen
Setting:
Deep within her ancient marble citadel, a crimson barrier of writhing blood seals off the throne room. Inside: Kon stands, calm, unflinching — the stone floor cold beneath his boots. His cloak sways as Elizabeth Báthory — the Blood Queen — appears like a phantom, her cold fingers lifting his chin.
Elizabeth:
"So tell me… why stand before me, little god?"
Her voice drips like syrup, a mock caress.
Kon:
"I'm here to take your life — or you can surrender what you are to me. Choose now."
His tone is deathly even — not a flicker of fear.
She laughs — an echo that shakes the crimson walls.
"You? Kill me? Foolish worm — do you think your stolen tricks match true royal blood?"
Kon does not flinch.
"Elizabeth Báthory, Blood Queen… You know who I am. A descendant of Vlad. He was the cradle of blood — you are just a remnant. You borrowed the legacy."
She sneers, conjuring a thick blood barrier between herself and his waiting servants outside.
"Then die in this cage, Kon of the Void."
Fuko, outside, hisses through the barrier:
"Lord Kon — the seal is vampiric, we can't break it!"
Kon raises a single hand: Don't interfere.
"She wants a duel? So be it."
---
The Duel Begins —
Elizabeth's eyes glow crimson.
"I'll tear you apart and feed your marrow to my wolves."
Kon steps forward, blade glinting.
"I'd prefer your spine on my altar, but this works."
They clash —
Kon's sword vs. liquid spears of blood.
Blood Manipulation: 81st Form — Void Coil
A dark vortex of blood erupts, ripping at Elizabeth's flesh — but she laughs, reforming.
"Not enough, Kon — the throne of blood is mine!"
She strikes — crimson needles pierce Kon's side. He stumbles, but smiles, lips red with his own blood.
"Wrong. Vlad's gift was never your throne. It was mine."
He whispers the final call: "Blood Manipulation: 97th Form — Crimson Annihilation."
He thrusts — the Remji Blade, hidden till now, cracks her chest wide open. A wave of black-red energy floods through her — her body convulses, teeth gnash, but her soul burns out of her flesh, obliterated in a flicker.
Her body slumps — still whole, but lifeless as stone.
---
Outside —
The barrier shatters.
Fuko and Victor rush in.
"My lord — you're bleeding—"
Kon glances at his shredded leg, blood pooling.
"Left leg's gone. Small price." He grips Elizabeth's corpse by the hair, lifts it calmly. "We needed the body — now we have it."
He limps forward, eyes dark with a cold, satisfied smile.
"Prep the base. The Queen's gift belongs to me now."
CUT TO: Kon's base — the beginning of a new ritual.
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🔥 Vibe:
Ruthless duel. Kon's cold dominance. The moment where he shows the true difference: power is not just blood — it's soul.
SCENE — The Crimson Ritual
Setting:
Deep within Kon's hidden stronghold — the Ancient Ventricle.
A cavernous chamber of stone and veins, pulsing with an eerie heartbeat of dark sorcery.
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Kon lies bound to an obsidian slab — arms splayed, runes carved into his chest and thighs.
His left leg — once lost — regenerates before his eyes, raw flesh knitting with unnatural precision.
Kon (smirks, whispering to himself):
"Guess I'm whole again… I always am."
Above him, the Sanguine Pouch swings on iron chains — blood of Elizabeth Báthory drips steadily through a web of silver tubes and glass coils. Each drop merges into Kon's veins.
His breathing rasps through a Spirit Inhale Mask, ancient breath forced into him by living runes carved from abyssal beasts.
---
Nearby, Elizabeth's corpse — still beautiful but hollow — is pinned upright by ritual spears. Runes carved along her pale skin crawl, glowing a venomous red as they devour what remains of her essence, siphoning centuries of cruelty drop by drop.
Kon turns his head, eyes flickering to Hazo:
"No consumption. Not yet. Her flesh is a shell — her soul's gone. What matters is her blood — it will bind."
Hazo bows low:
"And the Abyss, my lord?"
Kon:
"Victor will hold the Abyss leash until I rise. This merging will take a year — a year of nightmares and poison. If they come, stall them. If they rebel, kill them. If you fail, I will return to flay your soul bare."
Hazo lowers his head again.
"As you command."
---
A hum of power shakes the Ventricle — wires snake deeper into Kon's skin, merging man and monster.
A runic brand on his sternum glows bright as the first drop of pure Bathory blood hits his heart.
Kon's lips curl into a twisted grin behind the mask.
"Elizabeth… centuries of horror, cruelty, lust for life… all mine now. Rest well in my veins."
---
The ritual continues — her corpse shrivels as her blood is drained, runes crackling and spitting sparks. Kon's body arches against the slab, veins blackening, then turning deep crimson as the Blood Queen's legacy merges with the throne of Dracula.
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Outside the chamber:
Victor stands guard — cloak billowing, sword sheathed but ready — eyes fixed on the sealed iron door, listening to the monstrous heartbeat echoing within.
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CUT TO BLACK.
🔥 One year — and the King of Cruelty will stand reborn, bearing Elizabeth's ancient nightmare in his bones.