They entered Prague at dusk.

The city no longer sounded human.

That was the first thing Seraphina noticed.

No traffic.

No distant music spilling from restaurants.

No arguing couples outside bars or tourists getting lost near Old Town Square.

Just sirens.

Gunfire.

And screaming carried intermittently through smoke-filled streets like the city itself had developed a nervous system and was now dying loudly.

The sanctuary strike teams moved through the western districts in armored convoys beneath blackout conditions while emergency fires burned across the skyline.

Lucien led the advance group personally.

Of course he did.

No one even argued anymore when it came to impossible situations and Lucien immediately volunteering to walk directly into them.

Seraphina stayed beside him through the ruined tram tunnels beneath the river sectors while Cassian coordinated evacuation routes farther west through comms.

The infected spread faster above ground now.

Too many bodies.

Too much panic.

Too many civilians trapped before quarantine barriers collapsed.

The tunnels smelled like wet concrete, smoke, and blood.

Fresh blood.

Not vampire feeding.

Messier.

Human.

One sanctuary operative ahead of them gagged quietly near the third checkpoint after finding what remained of a Church barricade team half-devoured beside the tracks.

Lucien stepped forward first automatically.

Protective instinct.

Assessment instinct.

Ancient healer instinct.

All still tangled together inside him no matter how violently history tried stripping them away.

He crouched beside one of the bodies silently for several seconds.

Seraphina watched his expression sharpen slowly afterward.

“Lucien?”

He touched the corpse’s throat carefully.

Black veins spread beneath the skin like rot moving through roots.

Wrong.

Everything about it looked wrong.

“These aren’t failed vampire transformations,” he said quietly.

Cassian’s voice crackled through comms immediately.

“Then what the hell are they?”

Lucien stood slowly.

His face looked colder now.

“The Church altered the blood pathogen.”

Seraphina frowned sharply.

“With what?”

Lucien hesitated.

Never good.

Then quietly:

“My blood.”

The tunnel fell silent.

God.

Of course.

The First Vampire.

The oldest surviving immortal bloodline on earth.

Aldric didn’t just weaponize vampirism.

He weaponized Lucien specifically.

The realization hit visibly inside him.

Not ego.

Violation.

Like someone dug through centuries of buried remains and turned them into ammunition.

One of the sanctuary scouts approached from farther down the tunnel then.

Breathing hard.

“We found survivors near platform six. About twenty civilians.” He swallowed visibly. “But something’s hunting them.”

Lucien moved immediately.

The group followed through the lower maintenance tunnels beneath shattered station platforms while distant screams echoed overhead through broken ventilation shafts.

They found the survivors barricaded inside an abandoned metro service room.

Families.

Children.

Three wounded police officers trying unsuccessfully to keep everyone calm.

The moment the civilians saw armed sanctuary teams arriving, relief collapsed visibly through the room.

One woman started crying immediately.

A little boy maybe eight years old stared openly at Lucien’s eyes and whispered:

“Are you a vampire?”

Lucien crouched carefully to the child’s height.

“Yes.”

The honesty startled the room quiet.

The boy tightened his grip on his mother’s sleeve.

“Are you gonna eat us?”

Lucien’s expression changed so slightly most people would’ve missed it.

Pain.

Tiny.

Instant.

“No,” he said softly. “I came to get you out.”

God.

Seraphina loved him so much it physically hurt sometimes.

The evacuation started quickly afterward.

Sanctuary operatives escorted civilians back through the tunnel routes while Lucien remained near the rear flank monitoring movement through the dark platforms ahead.

Seraphina noticed the exhaustion in his posture immediately.

He’d barely fed properly in days.

Too focused.

Too angry.

Too emotionally wrecked.

Still functioning entirely through stubbornness and ancient survival instincts.

“Hey,” she murmured quietly while checking ammunition beside him. “You good?”

Lucien glanced sideways toward her.

“Define good.”

“Fair.”

The corner of his mouth almost moved.

Almost.

Then the lights died.

Every tunnel lamp flickered out simultaneously.

Darkness swallowed the station instantly.

The infected hit seconds later.

Not charging.

Dropping.

The creatures came crawling out of the ventilation shafts overhead in twisted waves of black-veined bodies moving unnaturally fast across walls and ceilings.

Gunfire exploded through the station.

One sanctuary operative screamed as something tore through his throat before anyone fully tracked movement.

Seraphina fired twice into the nearest creature.

Silver rounds slowed it.

Didn’t stop it.

God.

Lucien moved like violence itself beside her.

One infected hit the tunnel wall hard enough to crater concrete after he threw it barehanded across the station platform.

Another lost its head entirely.

Still twitched afterward.

The civilians panicked instantly.

Children crying.

People running.

Cassian shouting evacuation commands through comms drowned beneath screaming and gunfire.

Then Seraphina saw it.

One infected creature sprinted directly toward the little boy from earlier.

No time.

Too far.

Lucien moved first.

Always first.

He intercepted the creature mid-charge hard enough both bodies slammed violently into a collapsed support column.

The infected bit him immediately.

Straight through the forearm.

Deep.

Lucien tore the creature apart seconds later.

Literally apart.

Blood covered the tunnel wall behind him.

But Seraphina already saw the wound.

Saw black veins immediately spreading outward beneath the bite.

No.

Lucien looked at the wound too.

And for one horrible second—

fear crossed his face.

Not fear of pain.

Recognition.

The evacuation chaos continued around them.

Nobody else noticed yet.

Lucien straightened immediately afterward and pulled his sleeve back down over the wound before turning toward the civilians.

“Move,” he ordered sharply. “Now.”

Seraphina grabbed his wrist the second the survivors disappeared deeper into the tunnel system.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

Lie.

Instant lie.

The veins were already spreading.

Slowly.

Black rot threading beneath pale skin toward his elbow.

Seraphina’s pulse spiked violently.

“Lucien.”

His gaze locked onto hers.

Steady.

Controlled.

Terrifyingly controlled.

“We do not have time for this right now.”

The sentence landed wrong immediately.

Not dismissive.

Prepared.

Like he already understood exactly what the infection meant.

Another wave of infected creatures screamed somewhere deeper in the station tunnels.

Cassian’s voice burst through comms:

Eastern route breached—

We need immediate extraction support—

Lucien pulled gently free from Seraphina’s grip before she could stop him.

Then lifted his rifle again like nothing happened.

Like immortality hadn’t just started bleeding black beneath his skin.

The rest of the evacuation blurred afterward into smoke, gunfire, and collapsing tunnel routes.

By the time they reached the western extraction convoy near dawn, Prague was burning openly across the river districts.

Entire neighborhoods gone.

Military barricades collapsed.

Helicopters circling endlessly overhead.

Apocalypse fully awake now.

Seraphina finally cornered Lucien alone beside one of the armored convoy trucks while sanctuary medics treated civilians nearby.

“Show me the wound.”

Lucien didn’t answer immediately.

That terrified her more than refusal.

Finally he rolled his sleeve upward slowly.

The black veins had spread past his elbow already.

Rot moving beneath immortal flesh.

Impossible.

Seraphina stared numbly.

“What is this?”

Lucien looked toward the burning city skyline instead of her.

And when he finally answered—

his voice sounded quieter than she’d ever heard it.

“Doom.”

The word settled coldly between them.

Not dramatic.

Ancient.

Seraphina’s chest tightened painfully.

“You can survive this.”

Lucien didn’t respond.

Which was answer enough.

Somewhere nearby, emergency sirens continued screaming across the dying city.

But Lucien calmly pulled his sleeve back down afterward before anyone else could notice the spreading corruption beneath his skin.

Then he walked toward the next evacuation convoy briefing like he hadn’t just learned immortality finally found something capable of killing him.