Vampire Progenitor System

The rooftop lounge was slowly filling up. More people, more noise, more energy. Neon lights from the city below mixed with the soft glow of lanterns strung above, casting everything in that dreamy, late-night vibe.

Lucifer and Mob were lounging on a sleek sofa in the corner, drinks in hand, deep in their usual back-and-forth.

”I’m telling you, this fit makes me look like a damn K-drama lead,” Mob said, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. His fashion was loud—silver chains, layered shirts, designer everything. But he pulled it off.

Lucifer scoffed and leaned back, the red glow of his eyes catching the moonlight just right. ”Yeah? Too bad you’re standing next to me.”

Mob rolled his eyes and laughed. ”Bro, just ’cause your eyes look like they were designed in Photoshop doesn’t mean you’re hotter than me.”

”It does. And you know it.” Lucifer stood, a smug smirk on his face. ”I’m getting another drink.”

He strolled off, hands in his pockets, long black coat fluttering slightly behind him.

BAM!

The lounge doors slammed open.

Heads turned.

A young man stormed in, breathing heavy like he’d sprinted the whole way. His skin was a rich caramel tone, his sharp jawline tense with frustration. Short twists sat neatly on his head, and his eyes—fierce, golden-brown—scanned the crowd like a hawk.

He was tall, lean but built like a fighter, wearing a sleeveless hoodie and gloves with cut-off fingers.

”Where is she? Where’s my sister?!” he shouted, voice echoing across the rooftop.

Lucifer froze mid-step, drink half-poured.

Adam, calm as ever, leaned against the bar and held up a glass of wine. ”Relax, hothead. Your sister’s not here.”

Ken snatched the glass without looking, downed it in one gulp, and marched straight toward Remu.

Lucifer blinked, shrugged, and grabbed another drink. ”Not even a thank you,” he muttered under his breath.

Ken wasn’t listening to anyone. ”Remu,” he said firmly, ”I need your help.”

Remu raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.

Ken kept going. ”The full moon’s intense tonight. Stronger than usual. My sister hasn’t fully mastered her transformations. I need you to use a locator spell—track her down before something happens.”

The energy shifted.

Lucifer turned back, brow raised. ”Hold up... what do you mean by transformations? And what the hell is a locator spell?”

Silence.

Every face around the lounge turned toward him.

Francisca looked away, guilt in her eyes.

Mob... Mob looked like someone who just lost a bet he didn’t want to win.

Ella and Remu? They looked at him like he wasn’t supposed to be part of this moment.

Like he was the only one in the dark.

And he felt it. That sinking chill in the pit of his stomach.

They all knew something.

Something big.

Something he didn’t.

”This isn’t the time to argue about who knows what,” Ken snapped, his voice sharp, eyes burning blue. ”My sister’s out there. If she loses control, she could hurt someone—or worse, kill them. And if the Hunters get to her first...”

He didn’t need to finish.

Everyone knew what that meant.

”We find her now. Then you can wipe his memory. It’s not the first time you’ve done it, Ella,” he added coldly, not even glancing Lucifer’s way as he focused on Remu, the group’s silent witch.

But it wasn’t going to go smoothly.

As soon as Francisca heard the part about memory wiping, her aura flared. A sudden pulse of heat rolled off her as she stepped forward, flames sparking around her hands.

”What did you do?” she screamed, charging straight at Ella like a firestorm.

But Mob moved quick.

He slid in between them, arms out, stopping Francisca just before she could unleash.

”Francisca, chill! This isn’t the time!” he shouted, holding her back. ”Angel’s out there. People could die. We’ll deal with all this memory stuff later, alright?”

Ella clicked her tongue in annoyance, then looked over at Lucifer with a smirk that could cut glass.

Lucifer, standing at the edge of the circle, wasn’t laughing.

His jaw clenched. His hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but from rage.

”I’m not letting this go,” he said, stepping forward. ”I want the truth. Right now.”

That’s when Ken finally lost it.

His body snapped forward like a predator. His eyes lit up, glowing that bright, unnatural blue. Fangs slid down over his lower lip. Claws erupted from his fingers. And the hair at his temples spiked out into wild tufts as he roared at Lucifer.

Lucifer flinched and stepped back.

”Don’t test me, Lucifer,” Ken growled, voice rumbling like thunder. ”I swear—I’ll do something we’ll both regret. So sit. Down.”

The air grew tense and heavy.

Remu, calm and still as ever, raised her hand slightly, and a small glowing portal the size of a melon shimmered into existence before her. She reached into it and slowly pulled out an old leather map, the edges torn and glowing faintly under the moonlight.

Ken handed her a delicate gold earring—Angel’s.

Remu took it gently, then laid the map flat on a small round table at the center of the lounge. She placed the earring right in the middle.

Then she closed her eyes.

Her voice came low and rhythmic—not English.

> ”Asha rei’tana... veskir lumina... ferel os’mara.”

She moved her hands in tight, practiced signs, the air bending around her fingertips as they began to glow with soft purple light.

The earring on the map shuddered.

> ”Nerai sol’mira... T’alna ferish vel to’ra...”

The glow intensified. Her voice rose with each word.

The earring started to melt—no heat, just liquid gold sliding across the map like it was alive.

> ”Ashe veltorin... Kareina shive... show me the path unseen.”

The golden trail slithered along the map like a snake, zigzagging across towns, forests, roads, and rivers. Everyone watched, breath held, as the liquid stopped—right over an abandoned industrial zone just outside the city.

Remu’s eyes snapped open. Glowing violet.

”She’s there,” she said simply. ”But she’s not alone.”

”I know there.”