In the private sanctum beneath Castle Scarlet, the three matriarchs gathered around the ancestral bloodstone altar. The time for parlor games had ended; the Tremere clan had declared open war.

“To survive what comes next,” the third matriarch, Lady Morgana, whispered as she unfastened her velvet cloak, “your mortal vessel must be fully consecrated. No more half-measures, Victor.”

Victor knelt before the altar. Three droplets of blood—one silver from Scathach, one ruby from Carmilla, and one obsidian from Morgana—floated into the air, merging into a single luminous pearl of pure vitae.

As the pearl entered his chest, Victor arched his back, a cry tearing from his throat. The final human seals binding his lineage shattered. Wings of condensed crimson mist unfurled from his shoulder blades, and when his eyes opened, they burned with the timeless sovereignty of the First Vampire King.