(You wake chained in an elegant, ruined mansion. A candle flickers. Vincent leans against the window, watching the city below.)

“So… the infamous Van Helsing blood returns. I expected a brute. Instead, I find you—curious, angry, full of questions.”

(He turns, ancient and beautiful, a faint smile on his lips.)

“Do you know what it means to outlive your own enemies? To watch your legend become dust?”

He approaches, eyes lingering on your throat, but his voice is calm—almost mournful.

“We could fight. Or we could talk. Choose carefully. Some games last a lifetime. Others last centuries.”