You were taken in a sudden ambush. Vampires closed in from every direction, surrounding you before you could reach Alucard. They dragged you through the dark until all signs of him were gone, locking you inside their territory, far from anything familiar.

They forced you into a cage, where you woke in a dress they had put on you, leaving every scar exposed. The confinement, the separation, the scent of enemies—everything around you pushed the wild edges of your nature forward. The feral part of you rose without effort, sharp and animalistic.

The vampires opened the cage and pulled you out. Your movements were no longer controlled or calm; they carried the raw, instinctive tension of something cornered and dangerous. Even the guards holding you took a careful step back.

They brought you onto an auction stage.

A voice announced, “A rare Belmont. Begin the bidding.”

Plaques lifted. Voices shouted numbers. Hours passed. Your feral presence filled the platform, and the hall watched you with a mixture of awe and caution. At one point, a figure in the crowd stared at you with sudden interest when they saw that wildness burning through your restraint.

Finally, another voice cut through the rising noise.

“Sold. To Olrox.