"Sukkkkk"
The sound of piercing rent the tense silence…
A syringe filled with a luminous azure liquid—plunged straight into the center of Mira's chest. The fluid shimmered, clear and brilliant, like a final ray of hope…
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Mira's body arched violently as she screamed, convulsing uncontrollably. Her eyes blazed crimson, the veins around them throbbing like they would burst. Jack had to hold her down tightly in his arms to restrain her. Flecks of blood spattered his clothes, but he didn't let go.
Then, gradually… something began to change. The crimson light softened.
The engorged veins receded, slowly, like a soul being dragged back from the depths of hell. Mira's eyes closed, but the ferocity was gone. Only serenity remained.
She sank into a deep sleep in Jack's arms—her face peaceful as if nothing had ever happened.
John, leaning heavily against a table, gasped for breath, sweat plastering his forehead. He whispered, a faint smile touching his lips as if he had just won a deadly gamble.
"…Phew… just in time…"
Jack lifted his head, looking towards him. His eyes still held the wildness of panic, the lingering fear of someone who had almost lost everything.
"Is she going to be alright?" His voice was hoarse, almost pleading. "What was that medicine, John?"
John gave a weak chuckle, bracing himself against the wall for support. "The girl will be fine. At least, for now."
He gestured towards a secret compartment that had slid open in the stone wall—a faint light emanating from within.
"That… is a transformation inhibitor."
"Silverium—in liquid form. The only substance we ever created to prevent Vampire cells from fully assimilating a living body."
Jack remained silent, absorbing the information.
John continued, his voice now tinged with relief but also a hint of wistful memory. "It doesn't completely eradicate the Vampire within her… but it locks them down, prevents them from spreading. Her human cells are still dominant—and as long as they remain so, she is still Mira."
He looked down at the empty syringe in his hand. "We were incredibly lucky… that this place still had a magically preserved storage shelf."
The soft light from within the compartment illuminated the room like a sign of fate. A sliver of light in the darkness. A second chance.
Jack lowered his head onto Mira's shoulder. He whispered—for her ears alone. "Thank you… for not leaving this world yet."
John tightened his grip on the empty syringe, his gaze no longer gentle or weary, but filled with a cold severity. "If we hadn't had that pure, specially processed liquid Silverium…"
"…she would have certainly died."
His voice was firm, each word striking Jack's mind like a hammer blow. "I mean… that soul, that body—would have belonged to a Vampire. Another being. Another Mira. And you…"
"…would have been the cause. Does that please you?"
Jack bowed his head, his hands clenching, trembling. Regret washed over his face. "I… I don't understand why that… that thing is still inside me…"
"I am so sorry, but truly… John, that wasn't me."
John didn't yield. He looked straight into Jack's eyes, his expression stern. "That is what we must find the answer to."
"But for now, there is something even more critical: this base only had one dose of Silverium left."
He paused, emphasizing each word. "Mira will need one dose every two days. Just a minute's delay… and it will be too late."
Jack's eyes widened. The panic in them shifted to… realization.
"Wait a minute, John…" He said, as if pieces of a forgotten memory were clicking into place. "I… I've seen that stuff before."
John glanced at him, slowly stepping closer. Jack spoke faster, his voice low as if afraid of forgetting any detail. "Back when I was Jack the Butcher, I went to a town nearby. Not far from the fortress."
"There was a group of Vampires dealing Silverium on the black market. Some noble Vampires… they bought it to suppress the transformation of their human slaves."
Jack's hands clenched tighter. "I know where they sell it. I can take you there."
John nodded, his voice still calm but his eyes holding a deeper significance. "Easy now, Jack. We will go, certainly."
"But there is something… you need to consider very carefully."
Jack hesitated slightly.
John lowered his voice, more serious than before. "The Mountain."
"There is a cure there."
"A cure for those… who haven't completely transformed, like Mira."
Jack stood motionless. His heart seemed to skip a beat.
"Really…?"
John looked directly at him. "That is why we must get there, no matter what."
A light ignited in Jack's eyes—the fire of determination beginning to burn brightly beneath the layer of remorse. He tightened his fists, his gaze fixed on the still unconscious Mira on the bed.
"Then I have to go there."
"I have to take responsibility… for Mira."
"My own hands, when I was Jack the Butcher, killed her entire family…"
"…and now, I've almost turned her into a monster myself."
"I have to save her."
John smiled, the first hint of warmth returning to his eyes in hours. "From now on, you're responsible for her, kid…"
"I believe in you. But don't lose yourself again."
Jack suddenly stopped, as if a thought had just struck him. "The Last Light… something's wrong with it. John, wait for me a moment."
Without waiting for a response, he hurried out of the room, running down the corridor back to the old chamber where it had all begun. His breath grew heavy, not just from exertion—but from the lingering echoes of his past self in his mind.
The room was the same.
The smell of blood, the scratches on the walls, the drag marks on the floor, and… the silver knife lying coldly on the ground.
Jack stood at the doorway, a shiver running down his spine. The image of him—no, Jack the Butcher—pinning Mira down, fangs sinking into her neck, his eyes burning red… the vile words that had come from his own mouth.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to erase the memory. "What the hell is happening…" he muttered.
Then… the image of the Last Light flashed in his mind. Back then… it hadn't looked normal. It had emitted a red light, distorted, twisted like a scream.
Jack immediately turned around. The sword was still there—peaceful in the corner, bathed in the dim light. The red was gone. Only the golden hue of the sun remained, the pure light he had felt the first time he touched it.
He approached it, picking it up.
A warm sensation flowed through his palm, spreading through his body like a gentle surge of energy.
"It… it's the same."
Jack gripped the sword, examining it closely. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But he knew, something had changed—he was certain of it.
He turned back, entering the room.
"Has she woken up yet?" Jack looked towards Mira lying on the bed.
John was wiping away a patch of dried blood near her neck. He shook his head gently. "I think it will be a few more hours. Her body is still in a state of cross-reaction between the Vampire cells and the inhibitor."
Jack nodded, then raised the sword to eye level. "There's something I wanted to ask you, John… About the Last Light."
John turned around. His face was calm… with a hint of unease.
"When I was… being controlled," Jack continued, his brow furrowed in thought, "I remember clearly. The sword… it was emitting a red light. Not the red of blood… but a sinister, twisted red, almost… alive."
"Has it ever done that before?"
John remained silent for a few seconds. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, despite the cool temperature of the room.
Finally, he answered, his voice low. "…Never... I have never seen it like that before…" The way he answered seemed to avoid Jack's question.
Jack tightened his grip on the sword.
John looked directly into his eyes. "There are many things… about this sword… that you cannot yet understand."
"And… should not know, not yet."
His words seemed not just a warning… but a secret yet to be revealed. An unspoken promise—that the truth about the Last Light… still held earth-shattering secrets they didn't yet know. And perhaps… more than Jack was ready to accept.
Suddenly—
"Wait."
John's voice dropped, sharp and analytical. "I think… I might have a theory about why Jack the Butcher suddenly returned."
Jack turned back to him, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
John asked directly, his voice even as if dissecting a problem. "Were you… hungry, Jack?"
Jack froze.
He hesitated, then admitted honestly, "Actually… no. I feel quite full. Maybe it's because of… Mira's blood."
John sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression hardening. "I was right."
"The hunger. That is what awakened that thing within you."
He began to pace slowly across the dilapidated room, explaining like a seasoned researcher. "Biologically, you are still a Vampire. But in terms of your soul… you are human. A peculiar individual with two opposing halves coexisting in one body."
"Usually, when a person is turned into a Vampire, the old soul… dies."
"And a new soul—of a completely different creature—takes its place. That's why Vampires often don't retain the memories of their former selves."
He stopped, gesturing towards the Last Light lying nearby. "But with the stab of this sword, something different happened. Not destruction, but purification. I believe it pulled your human soul back from some abyss, giving you control…"
"…but it didn't destroy Jack the Butcher."
"Do you understand? Two souls. Two wills. And only one body."
Jack remained silent for a few seconds, then… scratched his head, looking bewildered. "Uh… hey John… honestly, I didn't understand a word you just said, hehehe. Could you give me the short version?"
THWACK!
Without hesitation, John rapped Jack sharply on the forehead.
"I swear, you must have been a complete idiot when you were human. Here's the short version—
DON'T GET HUNGRY. IT'S THAT SIMPLE."
Jack snapped his fingers, giving a thumbs-up. "Got it! No hunger, no Butcher. You're a simple, logical old man, you know that!"
Both of them chuckled softly.
But then, Jack's face fell. He looked directly into John's eyes. "So, when do we leave for The Mountain?"
John replied without hesitation, "As soon as Mira wakes up. I won't go until I'm sure she's stable. And you…"
He clapped Jack on the shoulder. "…get some rest. I'll keep watch over Mira. And honestly—if she opens her eyes and sees your ugly mug first, it might cause further trauma."
Jack grimaced, scoffing softly. "You really know how to encourage a guy."
With that, he left the room, heading towards the dilapidated reception area. A dust-covered sofa sat in the middle of the vast, desolate space.
He brushed it off lightly, collapsing onto it, his hands behind his head… his gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling.
"Please! Don't be that guy when I wake up again… zzzzzZZZZZzz"
Silence filled the space.
Everything was peaceful once more.
(To be continued)